Forgotten Scars
by maydei
Summary: Three months after the Equalists' defeat, Korra is called to identify a man she had never wanted to see again. Unfortunately, what should be a simple mission grows into something much more complicated. It seems that some scars are never forgotten, after all. Amorra/Noarra
1. Chapter 1

**My lovely fellow crewmen at the S.S Amorra convinced me to post this before it was finished, so this is officially a WIP. I hope you guys like it, even though the start is pretty slow!**

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Seventeen.

Korra stretched her arms over her head, groaning with pained satisfaction as the joints popped. On the floor of her humble bedroom, Naga's ears twitched at the sound, raising her great head to snuffle at her friend and master. Korra grinned when a huge, slobbery tongue lapped at her hands, Korra only giving her token complaints when the polar bear dog scrambled onto the mattress beside her. Naga's tail thumped between the bedpost and the wall in an uneven rhythm.

Seventeen.

Korra grinned, not having the heart to shoo Naga from the bed when Korra was just as excited. Today, Korra was seventeen, a real adult (because sixteen, while being the age of adulthood in most cultures, was still just sixteen, and seventeen sounded so much more important). The sun streamed through her window in the promise of a perfect day, and perfect it was.

Even more perfect was the realization that Korra was _safe._

Three months ago, the Equalists had been driven from Republic City by the young General Iroh and Commander Bumi, with the help of the new "Team Avatar". Three months ago, the city had begun to sleep just a little more safely, knowing that their bending was not at risk, and for the non-benders, that they had a voice on the Counsel on their side—a man widely respected and slightly feared, known still to this day simply as The Lieutenant. The Equalists themselves were gone, but Korra ensured that the concept of bending and non-bending equality remained alive.

And, three months ago, a boat leaving the great bay of Republic City had exploded. Though never confirmed, eyewitnesses whispered of seeing Councilman Tarrlok and a mysterious man aboard only seconds before the inferno erupted. Officials had called it an accident, an unfortunate happening to faceless victims. But, still, the city whispered of justice being served for the ruthless Bloodbending Brothers.

Though Korra could take no official stance on the matter, she had often wondered if the world wasn't even the slightest bit better without them in it. As for bloodbending itself, she silently vowed to never, ever get involved in such a thing. Perhaps it was best to let the technique die out with the brothers, and, eventually, Master Katara.

Korra would never admit to her lingering nightmares on the matter.

The war had ended well, but not all things could be so simple. Korra's fledgling relationship with Mako had been crushed under the weight of Korra's political responsibilities, despite its promising beginnings. The entire situation might have been laughable, if not for the fact that Korra had been secretly pleased to see it end—Mako was much more demanding of her attentions than Bolin had ever been, and considerably less entertaining to be around. Korra was too independent to know what to do with a man... a _boy_ like Mako.

Their friendship had somehow made it though, though, when the strained atmosphere between Mako and Asami had rekindled (subtly assisted by Korra, much to Asami's reluctant thanks and Mako's endless cluelessness). That was nearly a month ago, now, and it was almost like Mako and Asami had never even left off.

Korra was better for it, she had to figure. After all, the Avatar had to put the world first, and herself second. By ending things with Mako, she had successfully jumped her first Avatar-grade emotional hurdle (at one point, Avatar Aang had even made a brief appearance to Korra's dreams to explain his own troubles with Avatar-style relationships). Things were... tentative between Mako and Korra, but surprisingly and pleasingly without the expected awkwardness and hurt.

And, now, she was finally seventeen, a fully-realized Avatar and hero to Republic City.

She was also extremely hungry.

Not one to ignore the rumblings of her stomach any longer than necessary, Korra swung her legs over the side of her bed, taking precious few seconds to make herself presentable before heading downstairs. At the ground floor of the Air Temple, Korra found her makeshift family crowded around the low tables—Asami, flawless as ever, speaking to Mako; poor Bolin half-asleep in a bowl of jook; Ikki, Jinora and Meelo wedged between their ever-present parents, Tenzin trying to instill calm within his children while Pema attempted to nurse baby Rohan.

Korra grinned for a moment, observing from the sidelines for only a second before she was noticed, beckoned over with smiles and joyful birthday wishes. Settling herself somewhere between Tenzin and Bolin, Korra took a few seconds to just absorb the moment, the feeling of calm and peace as she went through the normal motions on a special day.

_This_, she thought to herself with a smile, unable to explain to herself any further. She found that she didn't have to, and that the sense of love and family were more powerful than any words she could have harnessed. _This is what we fought for. _It was more than companionship, but the feeling that, here, she was completely accepted, and equally as deserving of this moment as Pema or Bolin or Asami. That, as the Avatar, she was not _entitled_ to this as a privilege, but to _everyone_ as a basic right.

Everyone deserved equally to feel as loved and as at home as Korra did right then. She said nothing beyond a smile as she began to eat, but her thoughts were firm. _If this is what I was fighting for, it was worth it._

* * *

That night, Korra had been shepherded to the almost-obligatory gala thrown in her honor, yet another event that she had no knowledge of or caring for, aside from the fact that she was forced by a group of White Lotus sentries to be groomed, and, of course, present. She made a mental note to grumble to Tenzin about this all night—this dress was even worse than the last, some countless layers of indigo-dyed silks and ivory furs, draped over her body in a way that was horrifyingly impractical, yet apparently "stunning". The pearls and moonstone beads they had threaded into her hair itched something terrible, and the hairpiece carved from shell was so tenderly positioned that Korra was afraid to even move her head in fear of it breaking. Not to mention the rouge on her cheeks and kohl around her eyes, along with the sticky clotted ink they had brushed into her lashes—she felt more like a primped poodle-monkey than a young Avatar.

It was no wonder that Katara had always mentioned social gatherings like this with a note of disdain. After all, Korra and Katara were cut from the same cloth; they were both much happier romping around and getting into trouble than sitting still and putting on the painted face of a high-class lady.

"This is humiliating," Korra grumbled, teetering precariously as she attempted to keep her balance on the dreadful shoes they had strapped to her feet. "How do you _enjoy _this?"

Asami gave her friend an indulgent smile, holding Korra's free hand as they descended the stairs. Korra was wedged in between the railing and her friend, trying her best not to break her neck while maintaining some semblance of grace. "Years of practice," Asami replied. "This sort of thing was bred into me."

Yet again, Korra stumbled, hands clamped painfully onto her supports as her ankle twisted. She let out a string of particularly unladylike words that made Asami flush. "That's great, you know, that's fine. But they should just keep me out of this."

"It's your birthday," the dark-haired girl argued, brushing a wayward curl out of her eyes. "How would you celebrate it?"

Korra sighed in relief as they finally reached the base of the stairs, shaking out her hands, which were stiff from clinging so tightly to the railings. "If I could?" She asked, and seeing Asami nod, she started to consider. "Home, for one. With my parents, with Master Katara... just being with my people. Though, I wouldn't complain if you guys were there, too."

Korra grinned, and caught her reflection in a mirror across the hall. She didn't recognize the woman smiling back. Her face fell, and she looked away.

"And the city?" The non-bender questioned, laying a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder. Asami knew better than anyone that sometimes the person you saw in your reflection, and the person you were inside were very different.

Korra sighed, staring at the huge doors at the end of the hall, which were the last barrier between herself and the public. "I love Republic City," Korra started slowly. "But it's not _my_ city. It's not mine to take care of, it's the Counsel's. The only reason I came was to keep the peace for a while and to learn airbending. Now, I have. And I..."

The realization that hit Korra in that moment brought her eyes back to Asami's. She saw a beautiful, confident woman—a woman who thrived on city life and who knew how best to make something of herself here, in Republic City. It was the same for Bolin and Mako, too, Korra knew. The city was their home, but it wasn't hers.

If the danger here had passed, and if there was conflict elsewhere, it was the duty of the Avatar to take care of it.

"It might be time for me to move on," Korra admitted.

Asami's eyes widened, glowing green accented by the makeup she wore with elegance, rather than discomfort. "Where will you go?"

"Somewhere. Anywhere they need me," Korra said, brows furrowing slightly in consideration. "General Iroh extended an invitation to me after the Equalist invasion. I know that he has squadrons all over the Earth Provinces, still dealing with Equalist revolts outside of the city. If we could arrange peaceful negotiations..." She stopped herself with a sigh, turning back to her closest (and only) female friend.

Asami smiled faintly, sadly, and reached down to squeeze Korra's hand. "Look, Korra. You are free to come and go as you please, to do whatever you think is right, but there is _always_ a place for you here. I know things between you and Mako have been..."

Both women made a face, but upon seeing the other's expression, began to laugh. "Still," Asami continued. "We all love you, Korra. We're a family, and if I could confidently speak for Mako and Bolin, I'd say that we'd follow you anywhere—"

"Don't," Korra replied simply. It wasn't out of anger or frustration, but out of simple understanding. "Neither of them has ever left the city, and the life of an Avatar is... difficult. It takes a certain kind of person to be able to uproot at a moment's notice, and you all... you're stable here. Steady. Your roots are too deeply ingrained in this city for you to go." Korra bowed her head slightly, still smiling. "But, look at me. One night, I broke out of the compound I'd lived in my whole life and got on a boat on a whim. I didn't have anything but a change of clothes and my water skins. I didn't even think enough to bring food. It was like... like the winds had changed direction, and I was the leaf."

A silence stretched between them, filled with bittersweet understanding. Korra and Asami had always been different, always had their differences, and always respected them. Even so, to think that their friendship might be stretched so far...

"You don't have to decide tonight, Korra," Asami reminded her. "You have all the time in the world. At least for tonight, enjoy the party. It's _yours_, after all."

"Ugh, don't remind me," Korra snorted, spirits lifted. She shifted uncomfortably in her dress, but offered a grin. "We should probably get this over with."

"Probably," Asami agreed.

Korra rolled her eyes, offering a sardonic, "Ladies first?"

When Korra entered and descended the stairs into the opulent ballroom, it was unaided, her nerves settled by a sense of peace.

The winds were about to change again.


	2. Chapter 2

**MY GOODNESS. This is what I get for not checking my chapters. I had no idea that the document had cut off so early. It seems I uploaded the wrong file. *facepalm* Sorry guys. Here's the RIGHT chapter.**

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The whispers were easier to ignore when there was an overall buzz of conversation, Korra found. Even so, the impolite staring made her hackles raise, and in minutes, Korra was about ready to snarl at anyone that so much as _looked_ at her wrong. She hated these kinds of social things; mostly because, even if she was the guest of honor, no one really wanted _her_ to be there. Instead, they wanted some well-groomed, soft-spoken wonder woman that Korra didn't recognize. Whoever they wanted, it certainly wasn't anyone Korra recognized.

"Korra!"

She spun at the sound of a familiar voice, her shoulders slumping in relief when she saw Tenzin fighting through the crowds to meet her. His fatherly pat to the shoulder comforted her some, especially when coupled with his slight smile. "You look lovely, Korra."

Korra shrugged, but was flattered at his compliment. She knew that Tenzin wasn't one to mince idle words. "You 'prolly didn't recognize me at first, huh?"

"Nonsense," Tenzin sniffed, but the hint of an embarrassed flush gave the truth of the matter away.

Korra grinned, hardly offended. "Whatever you say, old man. All this fancy stuff is crampin' my style."

"Happy birthday, Korra." Tenzin made a quick scan of the crowd. "I can't imagine it would be long before your friends make their way over and monopolize your attention. Shall we make our rounds?"

"Council members, politicians, the newly re-instated Chief Bei Fong? Yeah, sounds like a real blast." Korra rolled her eyes, but followed along after her airbending master, exchanging pleasantries with the high and the mighty. She only really got a good snipe in once she got to Lin. The woman was really too much fun to argue with, even if it only in jest these days. Still, their competitive edge was the most interesting thing Korra had encountered all night.

"Tenzin," she said, tugging at the man's sleeve as they made their way to yet another person Tenzin had spotted. "I've been wanting to talk to you about something, actually."

"You know I am always open to conversation, Korra," he replied distractedly, looking for something or someone the Avatar couldn't see.

"See, I've been thinking, and..." Korra sighed. "I think it might be best if I left the city for a while. Maybe if I took some time to go with the United Forces, help out General Iroh and Commander Bumi."

"What?" Tenzin turned to face her, abruptly serious. His brows were furrowed. "Where has this come from all of a sudden? If this is about your—your little tiff with that firebender boy—"

"His name is Mako, and it's not about him," she snapped defensively. "This is about _me_, as the Avatar, and needing to find my own path. There are people that need me outside of Republic City, Tenzin! I could be _helping_ them."

"You're helping _here_," the man argued, his tone clipped. Tenzin folded his arms over his chest, hands tucked into his sleeves in a way that Korra knew meant she was in for an argument. Gray eyes that were usually calm were narrowed and stormy, now focused solely on her. "The threat of the Equalists is not yet entirely neutralized, Korra. You are needed here. These people rely on you, and you cannot simply go gallivanting around the United Republic simply because you have some hurt feelings and are getting restless."

"This is _not_ about Mako!" Korra insisted furiously, hands arrogantly placed on her hips, chin raised in defiance. "Stop trying to make this about anything but _me_. This is my decision, and it's _my_ life. I'm an adult, Tenzin, and I need to act like one! By the time he was my age, Aang had already saved the world, and he and Fire Lord Zuko had begun plans for this city. I haven't done anything but chase around some Equalists and sit pretty for you and your Council."

Tenzin's face reddened at an alarming rate. "Avatar Aang lived in a time of war, doing work that no Avatar before him had ever done at such a young and vulnerable age! Under normal circumstances, you would never have been told of your Avatar status until a year ago, and you would still be in training for many years to come. There is no need for you to bring your competitiveness out of the Pro-Bending ring; you cannot simply aim to be 'better' than the Avatars past. For the time being, you are needed in Republic City, and the White Lotus will allow nothing less. Put this foolish nonsense out of your mind at once."

Korra let out a disbelieving snort, heedless of the stares that their conflict was starting to attract. She would be damned if she just let Tenzin dismiss her so easily! She was Avatar Korra, damn it, and she deserved to be listened to!

"This isn't 'foolish nonsense', this is common sense," she retorted. "There are still skirmishes in the Earth Provinces, and I know that there is still unrest among the non-benders that feel as though their hopes were destroyed with the fall of Amon. Those people deserve to be heard, and they need to know that I'm taking them seriously, Tenzin! The last thing I want is for a civil war to break out because _someone_ was too paranoid to let the _Avatar_ talk to some scared and frustrated people."

"What? I— _Korra_—"

Korra crossed her arms over her chest with a satisfied 'hmph', a self-assured smirk twisting painted lips. "Or would you rather jeopardize the fragile peace we've only just established?"

"And what if the estranged Equalists have already rallied another leader?" Tenzin asked incredulously.

Korra let loose a bitter bark of laughter, her arms spread wide. "That would be a threat to a fully-realized Avatar? Yeah, right! Or do you see another lying bloodbender hiding behind a mask that's willing to have a go?"

All at once, the room went silent, stunned in the wake of Korra's exclamations. Her face colored at the attention, but she held strong, even as the seconds ticked on.

"Never would there be another foolish enough to try," said a voice from the crowd. The masses parted to reveal a man familiar to them all—the Lieutenant. His face even still bore the remnants of the injuries sustained from Amon's assault. Steely eyes stared down those that looked like they might argue before his gaze turned back to the young Avatar. "The Avatar has been more than generous when compromising with us. My loyalty belongs to her. Any who claim to be Equalists that refuse her kindness and fair treatment are not Equalists at all, but fools."

The silence shattered when the applause began, the tension draining away as the volume rose. Korra held the Lieutenant's gaze, offering a solemn nod of thanks. The corner of the man's lips quirked upward, then he held up his glass in her direction with an inclination of his head.

"He's a good man," Tenzin said from behind her. Korra turned and sighed, readying her apology when Tenzin interrupted with a raised hand. "I understand your frustration, Korra, and I will consider your words. Perhaps it is best to offer the figurative olive-acorn branch before the tension rises any more."

"Thank you," Korra replied with a slight smile.

"Avatar Korra!"

The voice that interrupted them this time was distinctly female, and both Korra and Tenzin stared in surprise as a middle-aged, blue-eyed woman dressed in gorgeous furs emerged from the crowd. Her arms were open, and without a second thought, Korra launched herself into them with a joyous laugh.

"Chief Kya!" Korra exclaimed in delight.

Tenzin's sister held Korra close, chuckling to herself as the young woman pulled back enough to look at her. "Oh, how you've grown, little seal-lion cub. You're more beautiful than ever. You look just like the scrolls of Lady Yue."

Kya was the chief of the Northern Water Tribes, and one of Korra's favorite people. Katara's daughter was both strong and compassionate, someone Korra had always looked up to whenever their sister tribes converged. Kya treated her like one of her own, spoiling Korra with scrolls and weapons, rather than the dolls that her parents had always tried to give her.

"It's great to see you, Chief Kya," Korra said with a grin. Holding the woman's hands in her own. "I didn't think you would be here! Why come all the way to Republic City?"

At that, the woman's smile faded, taking a step back from the Avatar. "I'm afraid I'm here on a rather urgent matter." She moved to embrace her brother, and Korra only barely heard the words Kya mumbled into Tenzin's ear. "I need to speak with you and Korra immediately. Is there a place we can go that would be... _quiet_?"

Tenzin parted from the embrace with his older sister with a smile, but his eyes were worried. "Of course, Kya, it's been far too long since we've been able to catch up. I'm sure Korra's fans can spare her for a few minutes. My office is upstairs."

They moved slowly through the crowd as to not attract attention, spreading out and reconvening behind a great stone pillar. Korra wasn't sure what to make of it until Tenzin lay his hand on the stone and a section of it slid aside, revealing a hidden staircase that they slipped into without notice. It closed behind them without a sound.

The trio climbed the stairs to the top, pushing out a trap door that opened under one of Tenzin's rugs, which he moved aside with a gust of air. Korra was the last to climb through, cursing her high heels and inconvenient dress.

The trap door closed behind them.

Tenzin's office was not nearly the size of the late Councilman Tarrlok's, but rather cozy and comfortable. It lacked the over-the-top waterfall; instead, the office had four walls which displayed a collection of colorful fans, some looking old enough to crumble if touched. The wall behind his desk was covered with scrolls depicting ancient airbending techniques, and in one corner, a staff leaned against a bookcase, scratched and worn.

"You still keep Dad's glider in your office?" Kya asked, distracted. "I thought you would have moved it to the temple."

Tenzin shrugged, looking slightly uncomfortable before he simply responded, "Meelo."

"Ah," Kya agreed.

Korra peered closer at the staff, noticing marks that looked suspiciously like the imprints of teeth.

"What is this about, Kya? We don't have long before Korra's absence is noticed," Tenzin probed, sitting at his desk and turning on a small lamp. The light made his angular features look even more severe—Korra wasn't usually one to be intimidated, but she had never seen Tenzin in a mood like this.

Chief Kya sighed, crossing her arms over her chest, shifting her weight uncertainly. She glanced around the room, as if looking for intruders, before she turned her gaze back to her brother. "There has been an incident, and my people are... unsettled," the woman started. Her jaw clenched, eyes flickering between her brother and the young Avatar. "Several weeks ago, our scouts were surveying the area—a routine check, nothing unusual to cause it. But they found... well, they encountered unusual debris. Further investigation led them to an abandoned canoe, or so they thought. In the bottom of the boat, there were two men, both critically hypothermic and close to death."

Tenzin's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. He knew there was more that his sister was trying to say. Korra, however, jumped in. "Who are they?"

Kya laughed once without humor. "Therein lies the problem, Avatar Korra. Our men brought them back to our city, where I, myself, and several of our best healers tended to them. Despite our best efforts, one of them was beyond saving. The other, we managed to stabilize, but not without cost. Whatever had gotten him into that mess left him _looking_ like a mess. He will bear lifelong scars to his face and torso—but the problem is that his injuries showed signs of healing before we found him."

"Natural healing?" Korra asked with a frown.

"No." Kya's expression darkened. "Whoever attempted to heal him, whether himself or another, was a waterbender. Now, an injured man alone is nothing to worry about, but he awoke just over a week ago. He could not tell us his purpose for being at sea, his age, or even his name. He could not identify the man who died, though from their similar structures, we think they may have been related."

Korra's stomach sank. A scarred man, possibly a waterbender, found at sea with another who was most likely related. She liked the sound of it less and less.

Kya continued. "When he opened his eyes, they were blue. Only two groups of people have blue eyes, and both are water tribes. We decided that, perhaps it would be best to ask the elders of our tribe if they might be able to identify him."

"I'm assuming they could not?" Tenzin asked.

"Quite the contrary. One of our elders identified him and was quite certain of his identity, despite his scars." Kya took a deep breath, seeming to steady herself. "The elder that identified him has mind sickness. She was well respected in her time of health, but the loss of her husband and her son..."

Korra paled.

"We cannot put much weight in her word, not only because of this, but because she identified the patient as a dead man."

"Noatak," Korra whispered in horror, drawing the surprised gazes of both Kya and Tenzin. "She identified the man as Noatak, didn't she?"

"That's right," Kya agreed.

Tenzin stood swiftly. "This is a most unsettling matter. If that man is truly Noatak, he's extremely dangerous—"

"We have no way of knowing for sure!" Kya cut in, giving Tenzin a look that stopped the man in his tracks. "He remembers nothing of himself. The healers have attested to the fact that his mind is damaged. It's been _years_ since our tribe last saw Noatak, and this man's face is damaged enough that there is no one else who could identify him. That is why I have come to you, Avatar Korra."

Korra took a step back in shock, her hands raised defensively in front of her. "What, me? What do you expect me to do? If you don't know who he is, I definitely won't."

"You were the one who dealt with him the most, Korra," Kya reminded her impatiently. "You know more than his face. You know his mannerisms, his voice... you _know_ Amon. Not to mention, you saw him with your own eyes."

Korra sputtered helplessly for a few moments. "But I—I don't _know_ him! He attacked me and my friends; he tried to take my _bending_! The only time I ever saw him without a mask was for a few _seconds_ from several hundred paces! Why would I want to get anywhere _near_ him?"

The disapproving, disappointed look that Kya gave her nearly made Korra back down—nearly. "Korra, this is a man without an identity. You have the chance to help him, and you want to turn your back on him instead? That is no way for an Avatar to behave. My father was willing to see the good in people, including those that had hurt or betrayed him in the past. Where is your empathy for this man's plight? Since we have found him, he has been nothing but polite and cooperative. He hasn't even spoken out against the healers that had to cause him great pain in order to make him better. And imagine if this man is _not_ Noatak—what then? You will have turned away a man that desperately needed your help."

"But I—" Korra protested, taking a deep breath. "_Look_. I want to help, Chief Kya, but if this man _is_ Noatak or Amon or whoever he is, then he is a huge threat!"

"And you would leave us alone to deal with him?"

Korra and Kya glared at each other, opinions clashing like waves in a storm. Neither would back down easily, so Tenzin stepped in to help. "Korra, was it not _you_ that wanted to leave Republic City? Perhaps this is what fate has decided for you. You can spare several days to assist Chief Kya, at the least. If the man _is_ Noatak, we will deal with him as we see fit. If he is not, perhaps you can assist him in regaining his memories."

"That sounds fair," Kya agreed, nodding decisively. "Korra, do you agree?"

Korra stared between the siblings, caught between a rock and a hard place. She swore silently to somehow exact her fury on them.

Somehow.

"Fine," she snapped, finally losing her patience as she yanked at the beads in her hair. "Fine. You win." She only hoped that they couldn't tell just how sick she suddenly felt, like the storm had made its way into her stomach and was making a fine mess of things.

She thought this whole Amon business was over! Whether this man was Amon's alter-ego or not, she wanted nothing to do with him. The thought, the _possibility_ alone brought bile to her mouth and ice to her heart.

"My ship leaves in the morning," Kya replied, as if that solved everything. "Meet me at the docks, Avatar Korra, and we will be on our way in the morning. With any luck, this matter can be resolved shortly."

"With any luck," Korra replied, swallowing heavily. "Tenzin, I... I think it might be good if I went home now."

"Korra, are you alright?" Tenzin asked, taking a few steps toward her.

"Fine." She didn't feel fine. In fact, she felt quite sick. "I'm just... going to go back to the temple. Tomorrow's an early morning, right?"

"Korra—"

In seconds she had fled, leaving her shoes in the office behind her, as well as two concerned siblings.

Her retreat was marked by a trail of pearls and moonstone beads.


	3. Chapter 3

**ALERT. ALERT. **

**I was a derp and uploaded the wrong, unfinished document to chapter two. If you have not re-read the chapter, I suggest doing so, as it contains the rest of the information. This chapter will probably not make much sense without it.  
**

**Anyway, here's chapter three! It's short, but expect Amon/Noatak/Korra interaction next chapter.**

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Chief Kya's ship was different from the wooden boats of the Southern Water Tribe, and even the traditional vessels of the North. Her ship was one crafted from steel, much like Commander Bumi's, but ran on the power of steam. Korra had looked around the engine rooms, surprised to find it bare of coal and furnaces; instead, it bore huge turbines that were operated by waterbenders, directing streams of liquid through a boiler operated by a single firebender. Korra had wondered why, exactly, a firebender would volunteer to work on a ship that went only to and from the North Pole. However, when the man stepped aside for a brief rest, Korra saw him go and embrace one of the female waterbenders, and found her question answered.

She had left soon after, out of boredom, she supposed, and not at all because the sight of the firebender and waterbender together made a strange ache appear in her chest, fleeting as it was.

No, Korra spent most of the journey on the deck, leaning against the strong, steel railings and staring into the depths of the ocean, lost in thought. Sometimes, her thoughts were plagued by wonderings about the man who may or may not be Amon; other times, she noticed simple things like the variation in the water's color as they grew closer and closer to the North Pole. The crewmen dared not interrupt her musings—many a sailor had made the mistake of interrupting Kya when she behaved thusly, and were challenged to a spar as a result.

No, they were much too frightened to interrupt a woman when she was silent. After all, no one could truly know the cause for such behavior. The half-ton polar bear dog that lay at her master's feet who growled at anyone that attempted to approach Korra had nothing to do with it, of course.

There was only one person brave enough to interrupt the Avatar, and that was Chief Kya.

"You've been quiet since the ship set sail, Korra, and that was almost four days ago," the older woman said, giving Naga a fond pat on the head as she stepped up beside the Avatar. Naga lowered her head in content.

Korra, for her part, did not look up from the churning gray waves far below. "I forgot how cold the waves looked near the Poles."

The Chief was silent for a few moments, inspecting Korra's blank face. Korra still didn't turn to meet her eyes, which was unusual. There was usually very little tension between the two of them—even when Korra was in those angry pre-teen years, her face had always lit up when 'Auntie Kya' came to visit, even on business. Somewhere in between that time and the present, Korra had gone from being a child to a woman. In the past few months alone, Korra had seen horrors and suffered pain and terror.

And now, Kya was asking Korra to face her personal nightmare.

"It's okay to be angry with me," Kya said, for the first time, feeling guilty for what she was asking of Korra. It hadn't occurred to her before just how great a toll this could take on Korra's mind. Korra had faced Amon before, sure, but on the field of battle. Never in such close quarters. Never in such a personal way. "And it's okay to be afraid, Korra."

"I've learned to deal with fear," Korra replied, voice darkening. Her eyes narrowed at the waves, but she still did not raise her head. "I've faced it head-on and stared it in the eyes. I've had it touch me with its freezing, clammy hands. I've had it take away everything. And you know what I did to it? I threw it through a wall."

Korra's hands tightened around the railing, her head dipping further so her bangs obscured what little of her face Kya could see. Korra's shoulders tensed, and if Kya didn't know better, she would think the girl was either going to cry or throw someone overboard. "I know that Amon did terrible things to you, but there's a possibility that this man is not Amon at all."

"But what if he is?" Korra retorted. "What if he _is_ Amon or Noatak or whoever the hell he is? What do you expect me to do, Kya? Send him back to Republic City to face trial, when the world thinks he's dead? Raise unrest among the Equalists? Or should I simply let him stay with you in the Northern Tribes, leaving you all with the danger that he might remember who he is someday?"

"We will face that once you identify him, Korra."

"_And what if I can't identify him?_" Korra finally snapped, whirling to face her once-mentor, her face twisted with a myriad of emotions. "What if I can't tell you for sure? What will you do then?"

The Chief pursed her lips, frowning at Korra. "I have confidence in you, Korra."

Korra sneered, turning sharply on the heel of one hide-made boot and stomping back toward her quarters. Naga let out a great, tired groan as she got to her feet and padded after her master.

Kya huffed in frustration, but was silently shaken.

What if Korra couldn't identify the man either way? What would happen to him, then?

* * *

Despite Korra's frustrated mood, she found herself feeling much better once her feet were on solid ice. The simple pleasure of watching her breath curl in soft tendrils of steam was enough to distract Korra from the reason she was there. The sound of her feet crunching on the frozen snow, the taste of the polar air... it felt so much like home that Korra ached, especially when Naga's tail began to swish in excitement and she threw herself into one of the canals without a care in the world. Korra almost envied Naga's thick pelt—in her time away from home, she had gotten used to the mild temperatures of Republic City.

With only a rucksack slung over her shoulder, Korra had packed light. She had no problem following Kya when the woman gestured for her to do so (not like Asami, who would have half the city carrying her bags). Korra trailed behind the woman as she was led to the ice palace, maintained for the Chief and her guests, as was custom in the North. It made the humble lodgings of her home look downright cheap, but Korra missed them all the same. She would take a well-work igloo over an ice palace any day.

Still, though, she had to admit that the rooms in the North were considerably more opulent.

Korra was laying her other clothes on the bed when she was ambushed.

"KOOOOOOOOOORRRRAAAAAAAA!"

Korra barely had time to turn before she was struck by a small body, bundled in navy cloth and tawny fur. Short arms attempted to wrap around one of her legs, but couldn't quite succeed. Korra laughed, reaching underneath the little boy's arms and hauling him up onto her hip. His hair was the same brown as his mother's, blue eyes shining with mischief. "Pakkoda, you're so big!"

"I missed you Koko!" Pakkoda replied with a pout, clinging to Korra's waist. "Mama and I went to see Gramma 'Tara, but you weren't there!"

Pakkoda, Kya's son, was a bundle of energy. He was barely five years old and was something like Korra's little brother. He was strangely attached to the Avatar, but she didn't mind. The young boy was a non-bender like his father and Kya's husband, Sinaaq. With a tiny wolf's tail in his dark hair and big blue eyes, Korra was sure he would grow up to be a heartbreaker.

"I know, Koda. I had to go with Uncle Tenzin for a while, and I stayed with Jinora and Ikki and Meelo and baby Rohan," Korra reminded him, making her way out of her room and toward the kitchens. "Auntie Pema had a new baby, did you know that?"

Pakkoda shook his head, eyes wide with wonder. "She got 'nother boy?"

"Yeah, just like you!" Korra poked the boy in the side, gaining a round of giggles for her trouble. She smiled, descending the stairs and putting the boy on the ground. "Want to go get a snack with me?"

"Kelp cookies?" Pakkoda asked hopefully.

"Sounds great!" Korra agreed. "Race you there!"

Quickly, the ice-carved halls were filled with the sound of little feet as Pakkoda took off, Korra jogging slowly at his heels, just far enough behind that the boy didn't feel cheated. When they arrived, Korra made a show of being exhausted and let Pakkoda chatter on about his victory while Korra scrounged for cookies. The biscuits she finally managed to unearth were made from a sweet, flat dough that was mixed with shreds of salty sea kelp. They were a favorite treat among Water Tribe children in both the North and South, sometimes eaten with stewed sea prunes.

"Koko, d'ya meet the weird man?"

Korra frowned through a mouthful of cookie, eyes narrowing in consideration at Pakkoda. "Who?"

"The man with the scars," Pakkoda whispered, leaning closer. "Mama took me to see him once while she was healing him. His face looks funny, it's all red and blotchy."

Korra's hands spasmed in alarm, crushing the rest of her treat. "You saw him?"

"Mmhm," the young boy said, looking pleased to have Korra's undivided attention. "He was really quiet. I asked him stuff but I don't think he got it, 'cause he didn't say anything."

Taking a deep breath, Korra pushed herself up to sit on the icy shelf. "What did you ask?"

"Well," Pakkoda started, frowning like he couldn't quite remember. "I asked him who he was, but he didn't tell me. And I asked him where he came from, but he didn't tell me that, either. Mama said he has _nee-sha_."

Korra took the gross mispronunciation to mean that the man had amnesia. It was nothing she hadn't known already, but it was still unsettling to think that Kya had allowed her son so close to a man who _could_ be Amon.

Though, Korra realized, if the man really was Amon, Pakkoda would be in little danger, at least of having his bending taken. As a non-bender, the boy would never have to fear losing something that was such an integral part of himself.

_Just because Amon wouldn't be able to take Pakkoda's bending doesn't mean he isn't dangerous!_ Korra's mind argued fervently. She had to admit to that fact. Amon's weapons were dangerous to more than just benders.

"Are you gonna help him, Koko?"

Korra met the boy's gaze with wide-eyed surprise, blue against blue. In that moment, she saw such innocent hope in the Pakkoda's face that she couldn't help but sigh. "...yeah, Koda. I'm gonna help him."


	4. Chapter 4

**Time for a new chapter! Thanks for all the amazing reviews, especially to everyone who reviews on anon! I wish I could reply to you guys, 'cause some of you have really valid points. **

**Anyway, thank you! As a reward, have some Amorra/Noarra interaction! After all, that's what we're here for. ;]**

* * *

Korra followed behind Kya as they entered the healing facility, a large, spacious building on the outskirts of the city, meant to distance those healing from the hustle and bustle. Korra had to admit that the outskirts were far more peaceful, feeling more like her humble Southern home than the crowded city of ice. The result was... comforting, despite her anxiety.

"If you so desire, you may observe him before you interact," Kya said, weaving around the hardworking healers. "It will give you a chance to prepare yourself. We have not told him of your identity, or that you will be present."

"And if the sight of me makes him snap?" Korra asked, gulping silently.

"Our healers are master waterbenders, and the patient is weak. In combination with your formidable skill, I cannot imagine that you would be in danger. Even so, the patient is extremely docile. I wouldn't worry."

Korra dutifully attempted to keep her breathing even as she came up to the window of parchment-thin ice. She knew that it was far stronger than it looked, but the thought did nothing for her nerves. Steadying herself, she peered through, taking in the sight of several healers fussing over a man, his bare torso covered with gruesome scars, even as the healers tended to them with glowing hands. The man's head was ducked, uneven and visibly singed hair shielding his face from view.

Despite the freezing temperature, the man didn't so much as shiver. Korra was reluctantly impressed, even when his shoulders tensed from what must have been the stinging pain of healing. Forcing flesh to knit back together so rapidly was not a pleasant experience until it was over, despite the stereotype of the kind, all-comforting healer. Korra knew from experience that healing injuries could be just as painful as sustaining them, and that, to be a healer, one had to have near-perfect control of their waterbending. Just a little too much force could damage the body irreparably.

As though the man had suddenly sensed foreign eyes on him, his head turned slowly toward the window. Korra gasped in horror—Amon's faux wounds were nothing compared to these, which discolored a majority of his face and had left painful, blistering burns. Less like the theatrical horror of Amon's painted scars, and more like the melting disfigurement of Fire Lord Zuko's mark of honor and bravery, the man's body looked equally parts charred and scalded, discolored from his face to his shoulders and torso. His hands, however, were by far the worst, still bearing scorch marks and swollen so badly that Korra winced at the sight.

The eyes that met Korra's were almost the exact color of ice, not the frighteningly strange mirage of colors that she remembered from Amon. Even so, Korra reasoned, color lenses existed. Asami had once confided in her that she used them to emphasize the natural color of her irises.

The man's eyes, though the color of winter, were far from cold. A little humiliated, maybe, but curious. Not menacing or harsh like she had expected from a man who could have been Amon.

Despite her earlier discomfort, Korra was suddenly filled with a strange sense of pity. No matter who this man was, did _anyone_ deserve to suffer such pain?

"You said I could talk to him?" Korra asked, removing her hand from the window. She hadn't even realized that her palm was splayed across the ice. Turning to Kya, she glared to dispel the contemplative look the Chief was giving her.

"Yes, of course," Kya answered finally. "Let me speak with the healers, then you may talk to him."

Kya slipped into the room by ducking under a pelt, appearing shortly through the window. Korra watched as the woman greeted the wounded man, receiving a polite nod of the head in response. Kya then made a swift but thorough check of his body using waterbending. Korra couldn't hear the words the Chief said quietly to the patient, nor could she hear his response if he had deigned to give her one, but the man turned in surprise after a time. He winced at the action, but his eyes were intense on Kya before they shifted to take in Korra.

The anxiety returned with a vengeance.

Kya waved for Korra to enter, so, with a deep breath to steel herself, Korra (for once) did as she was told.

She entered with her chin high and her gaze steady, even when she wanted to recoil in horror. His wounds only looked worse as she got closer, but when she met his eyes, they showed no trace of pain. Korra wasn't sure what to say for a while, the words dying on the tip of her tongue. Luckily, the man took that responsibility away from her.

"Chief Kya says that you hope to identify me?" His voice was hoarse with disuse, cracking with every few syllables. It was obvious that the man hadn't spoken much since he arrived.

"Yes," Korra said in a sigh of relief, simply that she didn't have to start the conversation. "Yes, I hope to figure out who you are."

"You seem young," he rasped, choking on the freezing air and descending into a coughing fit. Korra stood by helplessly as the healers tended to his lungs. The man was panting by the time he had recovered enough to continue. "...to be an acquaintance of mine. Do you think yourself next of kin?" The man's gaze sharpened as he looked Korra up and down, his damaged lips pursing with something in between disgust and severity. "I sincerely hope nothing... more."

Korra gaped as her brain processed before her face flooded with ashamed and embarrassed color, reeling back from the man and his implications. "_No!_" she snapped angrily, her heart thundering away with rage and something like humiliation. "How dare—_no! _You are _sick!_"

"I simply thought it best to clarify," he replied, his pinched expression betraying his disapproval at the very idea. Then they were in agreement. For something. "Your expression outside made it seem... plausible."

"There is _nothing_ plausible about you and me," Korra snapped, crossing her arms over her chest, clenching her fingers into the thick fabric of her parka. If she didn't know that he had amnesia, Korra would strike him down for the implication that she would want _anything_ to do with him. "Nothing. You and I—we're not friends. We're barely acquaintances."

"And yet..." The man trailed off into silence, not finishing his sentence, but he didn't have to. Korra's reactions gave her away without the need of his pointed words. She wouldn't be here if she wasn't the one who knew him best.

That was, if she actually knew him at all.

"I am here," Korra clarified, teeth bared. "Because I may or may not know you. Looking at you, I can't tell for sure. If you _are_ the man I once... knew, then it will be difficult to tell. You look nothing like him." The nasty edge to her voice made the man's eyes narrow.

"Arrogant, impudent whelp," the man snapped, his annoyed tone surprising the healers, who shared shocked looks. "Can you not simply tell me who I am? If you knew me—"

"It's not that simple," the Avatar retorted, her hands shifting to rest on her hips in a rather superior pose. "You can't remember, you look different; it's more than just your _scars_, Amon, whether they're real this time or not!"

Blue eyes widened and then narrowed. "Amon?"

Korra stared at him for a few long seconds before she realized her slip, turning away from the man and moving toward the door. She stopped herself before she could leave, uncertainty anchoring her to her roots.

"Is he, then?" Kya asked.

Korra had almost forgotten she was there.

"I don't know," Korra answered truthfully, running a hand through her tousled bangs. "Like I said, he looks completely different. Even then, I only ever saw him once, and not clearly." She turned to face the Chief, using every bit of her stubbornness to avoid looking at the man. "Are you sure you can't do anything else to heal his mind?"

Kya shook her head. "For now, the rest is up to him."

"Then, that's my answer," she replied. "I can't tell you with certainty, and I don't want to condemn a man who might be innocent."

"What exactly do you think I did?" The man demanded, looking between Korra and Kya. "_Who_ do you think I am? This man called Amon—what exactly did he do?"

"What _didn't_ he do?" Korra replied under her breath, finally looking back to the patient. "Look, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I can't help you until you help yourself. Try to remember something, because that's what's going to help you. Not me. Not anyone else."

The man stared for a long time in silence, long enough to make Korra fidget under the unwavering weight of his icy eyes. "This Amon... he hurt you?"

Korra closed her eyes, turning her face away. She counted to ten, then counted again in an attempt to calm down. This whole situation shouldn't be so trying on her patience, but it was. "Amon hurt a lot of people. Innocent people. He was a ruthless man and a fraud."

"Then it's no wonder you must hate me. Were I in your position, I would hate me, too." There was a moment of silence. "I could not tell you honestly that I don't already hate myself."

Korra barely noticed as the healers shuffled out to give them space, leaving the man sitting on the block of ice covered by pelts and Korra standing hesitantly near the observation window. "What do you mean?"

The man turned his head away, but not before Korra saw a wince of pain cross his features. "My body and mind have turned against me. Whoever I was before, I am but a shell, now. I am not even a man, for a man has his history, his family and his home. I'm something less." He hissed through his teeth when his hands clenched instinctively, causing him great pain as his burns stretched and cracked. "You cannot imagine waking up and knowing not where you are or _who_ you are. To find that there is a body beside you, that, try as you might, you cannot remember. You don't know if you killed him or if he was already dead. You know nothing about the world that you have lived in for your whole life—everything about you is gone, but for your flesh and bones. Sometimes, not even that."

Korra frowned, about to speak up when he cut her off.

"No one but the healers will speak to me. Even the Chief steps lightly around me, but I have no idea of the reason why. She told me that you might be able to help me, and then you say you can't even offer your assistance. What kind of monster must I have been, that the only person who spoke to me without hostility was a child who couldn't have known any better?"

His eyes dared her to say differently, but Korra once again found herself without words.

"Who are you, truly?" The man asked, shoulders slumping in quiet defeat. His anger must have sapped what little energy he had to begin with. "Why are you here?"

"I..."

"If you cannot tell me even that, at least tell me what I may call you."

She stopped, hesitated, and finally relented. "Korra," the Avatar sighed. "My name is Korra."

"Korra," he repeated softly, his voice without a trace of recognition. "A pleasure truly." His tone suggested it was anything but. "I would offer my name in return, but seeing as I don't have one..."

Korra stared at the ground before she made a swift decision, taking one reluctant step forward after another until she stood only several paces away. "Noatak. It might _not_ be you, but if it isn't... then there's no one left in the world to claim the name. You're Noatak."

He frowned, a perfect picture of disgruntled confusion. "I thought you said Amon—"

"Amon is a dead man," Korra interjected firmly. "Don't think about that anymore. Your name is Noatak."

Korra turned away, heading for the door—it couldn't have been long since she entered, but she was already exhausted. However, the voice from behind her made Korra pause.

"So, that's it? You hand me a name that might not be mine at all and go on your merry way?"

"Who said anything about that?" Korra asked in return, glancing over her shoulder just in time to catch the fade of his confused expression. "I'm tired. Yes, I'm going home for the night, but this won't be the last you see of me. Despite my better judgement, I won't leave you here to rot away. I'll find a way to help you remember."

"Funny," Noatak whispered. "I was under the impression that rotting away was exactly what I was doing."

It would have been easy for Korra to pretend she hadn't heard. Maybe she should have pretended she didn't. Instead, she found herself reassuring him with a simple, "Not on my watch, tough guy."

She was smart enough to leave after that. It was only luck that spared her the sight of a tiny, soft quirk of lips.


	5. Chapter 5

**This chapter took a while longer than usual, but it's also much longer than the others I've written thus far! I hope you like it!**

**Thank you so much to everyone for the thoughtful and complimentary reviews, favorites and follows. I really appreciate how well this fic is being received, and I love to see that you guys are liking it! A billion times thank you!  
**

**Also, this fic is now a part of the Summer of Amorra movement on Tumblr. Everyone should go and check it out! :)  
**

* * *

Korra awoke the next morning with dark circles under her eyes. It was dawn, but the moon had lingered on the horizon through the course of the night—that was the way things were at the Poles.

Each Pole claimed the sun's time for half a year, alternating. This season, the North was blessed with the moon, while the South claimed the sun. While the moon was the master of their waterbending, the sun brought with it the gifts of the ocean. Turtle-seals followed the sun, needing to bask to keep their bodies warm, so the season of sun was high time for the tribes to hunt. The entirety of the sunny months were spent drying and preserving food in preparation for the moon season, when waterbending was its strongest. Major construction and expansion happened at this time, since the effort required for waterbending was far less.

Korra's life had always been this way. Unfortunately, over the past season, she had grown accustomed to the strange occurrence of both light and dark in a day, when the dark was considered time to sleep. She'd always been restless at night, though, and had spent most of her time sleeping days away, a mostly nocturnal creature of the city.

A "day" of solid night was strange and disconcerting. This was an entire season of the moon weaving through the sky, never setting. And, in turn, the cold darkness covered the ice palace like a blanket, dropping the already frigid temperatures.

Korra found herself despising her situation even more.

Not only that, but what little, restless sleep she'd gotten was plagued by nightmares of a scarred, ruined body reaching out with the intent to kill. In the dreams, she remembered screaming the words _I trusted you_, and the feeling of betrayal was more keen than the pain that had followed. When she'd woken, her eyes had been wet and sore, her body aching from the struggle that never happened.

That feeling of trust and subsequent betrayal was the most frightening opponent Korra had ever faced. She vowed to herself that she would not let the man's—_Noatak's—_presence get to her again.

She dressed with all the enthusiasm of a woman walking to the gallows, shedding her fur-lined sleep clothes and donning the thick layers of insulating underthings that Kya had provided her with. Korra hadn't thought to bring her own, used to the mild climate as she was, and had nearly frozen yesterday. After a brief but stern scolding from the Chief, she had been given more appropriate clothing to wear. Now, she barely felt the bite of the cold, content to wander the halls of the ice palace in the thick, long-sleeved shirt she had been given, the sleeves of her parka tied low on her hips in favor of carrying it.

Breakfast was an affair of some kind of stew, different than the South's stewed sea prunes, but bearing many of the same ingredients. She gulped it down, careless of the stinging heat her mouth suffered for her impatience, and hurried to catch up with Kya—Korra's entrance to the kitchen had gained a few comments, the most alarming coming from the cook, who said that Chief Kya had left nearly an hour ago.

Korra was sure that people were laughing at her as she sprinted across the city, struggling to pull her parka on as she went, hair in disarray, and mukluks shoved onto the wrong feet. She didn't really care, considering that the _only_ reason she was here had left _without_ her. Silently, she cursed Kya for not waking her up, and herself for being irresponsible. In her distraction, though, Korra slipped and fell headfirst into a snowdrift. She realized immediately that there was no way she would have fallen in such a way by herself. Someone must have icebended a slide under her feet.

Yanking herself free with a yell of fury, Korra turned to see a group of teenaged boys roaring with laughter, pointing and leering. The sight made her distinctly uncomfortable—she didn't like those looks, but she sure as hell wasn't going to let them get away with their pranks just because their smug superiority set her on edge.

"Hey, punks!" she snapped, scrambling to stand. "What the _hell_ do you think you're doing? Can't you see I'm trying to go somewhere?"

The boys (she would think of them as such even though they were probably her age or even older) froze, obviously not used to being spoken to in such a way. One stepped forward, tall with broad shoulders, arms thick with muscle. His hair was closer to a coffee brown than the usual brown-black, his eyes a deep, dark blue, like the depths of the ocean. He was an attractive man, Korra supposed, but the cocky smirk he wore and the smug jut of his chin made any charm he might have held disappear. "You better watch your mouth, girly. Do you know who I am?"

Korra rose to the challenge with a crooked grin, her teeth bared in a way much more menacing than friendly. "Do you know who _I_ am?"

"Yeah." replied the arrogant ostrich-horse's ass. "A wimp of a woman who doesn't even have enough sense to dress herself. You should have stayed in the kitchens, new girl. Now, apologize to us."

"Apologize for _what?_" Korra asked dangerously, her anger reaching a boiling point.

"Having your sorry self be a black spot in my vision." The guy's cronies cackled in mean-spirited humor. He practically puffed up at the attention, just like a preening rabbarooster. "Go on, then. I'm waiting. Or shall I _make_ you apologize?"

Letting out an exhale of steam, Korra shrugged off the parka she had only just donned, letting it fall to the icy ground. Then, carelessly, she kicked off her mukluks—having them on the wrong feet would only hinder her anyway. The snow against her toes bit with cold, and Korra heated her body with another exhaled breath, fire coursing through her veins and making the circuit through her feet, the steam starting to rise as the ice melted away. Eyes gleaming with the promise of vengeance, Korra took a menacing step forward.

The group of men stumbled a step back, eyes wide with horror. "What are you doing? Girls can't waterbend! They're not allowed!"

"And who said anything," Korra replied slowly, savoring the moment. "About waterbending?"

She lunged forward with fire in her hands, landing blasts at their feet, meant to startle but not to harm. Korra knew that, no matter the circumstances, if she roasted what looked like a year's group of waterbending students, she would be in trouble. She made the quick decision to switch to airbending, knocking the punks off their feet with a well-aimed gust. She still got a thrill every time she was able to airbend. There was something amazing about being able to move the air around herself with only a few graceful forms.

"You're the Avatar!" One boy shouted. The leader whirled about in surprise, eyes narrowing. He spring to his feet, getting into an offensive stance, and Korra knew she was in for a fight.

_Well, if he's going to waterbend, I sure as hell will, too_, she thought, bending her knees and sinking lower. Unluckily for the leader, she wasn't just the Avatar—she was a master waterbender, trained by the very best.

Just as they were about to lunge for each other, a familiar voice pierced the air. "Both of you, stop bending immediately!"

Korra turned to see a furious Chief Kya, giving her the most disapproving of her many looks. And then Korra took in the person just beside her—a face she recognized, not by the features, but by the scars. "What are _you_ doing here?" Korra asked in surprise, reeling back and nearly tripping over one of her discarded boots.

"What I am _doing_ is _ending_ this fight," Kya snapped. "Come before me, both of you." She glanced to the group of overturned lackeys. "You, too."

Korra sighed, not in regret but in disappointment that she couldn't finish what she started. Sulkily, she sunk to her knees at the feet of the Chief, head ducked and both hands held palm-up at chest level, the traditional gesture of surrender and submission. She nearly growled when she sensed her rival sink down beside her, but noticed from the corner of her eye that the young man did not bow his head. She hissed through her teeth; by not lowering his head, this—this _whelp_ was undermining Kya's authority, not only as his superior, but challenging her very leadership of the tribe. It was extremely disrespectful, and in the past, the gesture could have declared war between families.

"You dare?" Kya asked, her voice deadly soft. "I have tolerated your impudence in the past, Kennaqkorr, but you try my patience. Show me the respect I deserve as Chief, or I will cast you from this tribe. I have warned you before, but I will not warn you again."

Though it obviously pained the young man to do so, he followed orders.

"Korra," Kya said next, and Korra inclined her head further to acknowledge the Chief. Though Korra was from the Southern Tribe, their tribes were sisters, and each knew to treat the leaders of their sisters and brothers with reverence. It didn't matter that Korra was the Avatar—she was not going to undermine the traditions of her people, not on this.

"I address you as my charge and not by your title."

Korra nodded slightly in understanding, but did not look up.

"I understand that you have come from a place of war and great unrest, where challenges such as the foolish ones made by Kennaqkorr—" here, Korra heard the muted fury in Kya's voice as she hissed his name, "—could be challenges against your life. But this is not Republic City. This is my home and my tribe, and though I understand that you were defending yourself, you are expected to follow our rules. If you wish to declare a Duel of Pride, there is a time and a place for such a thing to be carried out. Only under the circumstance that your safety is threatened may you fight back against your assailant in the presence of the tribe. Do you understand?"

Another silent nod.

"I expect that this is part of the reason you are late?" Kya paused. "Your parka and mukluks have been discarded."

"They were hindering my bending, Chief," she said quietly. "I'm sorry I was running behind. I didn't sleep well, and then I was trying to catch up when I was..." Turning her head only enough that Kya knew she was looking at Kennaqkorr, but not that the Chief could see her face. "...interrupted. Please, forgive me."

"I see," Kya replied, and Korra knew she did. It seemed that Kya knew well just the kind of person that Kennaqkorr was. "You are forgiven, Korra. In truth, the fault was mine; I should have informed you last night, but I had matters to attend to this morning involving... our mutual friend."

Korra twitched, but dared not protest Kya's ambiguous wording, no matter how falsely implied. She felt the burn of eyes on her, a gaze beside the one of the Chief, and knew that Noatak must be studying her.

Not for the first time, she wondered what, exactly, he was doing outside the healing center. When she had seen him yesterday, he hardly looked fit to be outside his _room_, let alone walking about the city.

Korra shifted in acute discomfort. This was not a way she had wanted to appear before Noatak—obedient, submissive, _weak_.

"You may rise, Korra," Chief Kya said sternly, but not unkindly. Korra finally met her eyes. The older woman's expression was severe, but her eyes clearly told Korra that all was forgiven. "Now, I must beg a favor. If you are..." Kya gave a wry glance to Korra's scattered belongings. "Well, If you could accompany this man back to the healing center, I would be most appreciative. Unfortunately, I have some unexpected business to attend to."

Kya looked upon the group of young men with a sharp eye. Now that Korra was standing, she felt superior to them; they were polar bear pups with their tails between their legs, and Korra was let off with a slap on the wrist. The only thing that interrupted her feeling of smug pleasure was the knowledge that Noatak had seen her in such a subservient posture.

Korra smothered her humiliation as she went to retrieve her things with as much dignity as she could muster. Making sure that her boots were on the right feet and that her jacket was on the right way, Korra tugged the end of her wolf's tail to be sure it was tight, and, finally, dragged her feet in the direction of her newest companion. She didn't even look up to meet his eyes as she passed him, shoving her hands deep into her pockets. "Well, come on, then."

He said nothing in reply, but Korra heard the crunch of footsteps as he followed behind.

The only sound for several minutes was the crunch of snow beneath their boots. Korra didn't want to break the silence, but she was growing increasingly uncomfortable as Noatak lingered behind. She hated not being able to keep him in her sight. Luckily, the man solved her dilemma when he called Korra to a halt.

The Avatar turned in alarm when she heard the man's wheezing breaths and was taken aback when she saw him hunched over, gloved hands clutching weakly at his sides. Noatak coughed, gasping from the cold before dissolving into more body-shaking coughs. Korra stood by, unsure of what to do, simply waiting until he stopped. Even still, Noatak was curled inward, and Korra could see the clear expression of pain on his face, even damaged as it was by scars.

"Are you..." Korra trailed off, reaching out and then thinking better of it, her hand suspended in the state in between helping and hesitating.

"I do not need your help," the man snapped.

"Yeah, sure seems that way," Korra replied with a scowl, crossing her arms over her chest. "Because you're doing _so_ well on your own, and all."

Noatak gave her a baleful glare from behind his sleeve, where he muffled another round of coughs.

Korra grimaced and strode forward, shoving her own sleeves up toward her elbows. Though her heartbeat sped with nerves, Korra was all business as she knocked Noatak's arm aside, drawing ice from the ground and bending it into a glove of water around her hand.

"What exactly are you planning on—"

"Suck it up and let me work," the Avatar cut in with a frown.

Noatak's eyes narrowed slightly, but complied to the young woman's... unique healing manner. His eyes widened slightly as her hand began to glow, surprised enough that he almost didn't notice Korra working at the buttons on the side of his heavy coat. Almost.

"What—"

"Did I _not_ just tell you to let me work?" Korra sniped, batting away his hands as he tried to fix his coat. "Let me check your lungs."

"_Here?_" Noatak asked, clearly annoyed. "Or have you forgotten where, exactly, we are?"

Korra paused only to look up, their gazes warring over so many and so little things, such as the manner of their individual madness. "No, I haven't." It was true, she hadn't. They were still on the outskirts of the city, but the healing center was still several thousand paces yet. "But we're not gonna get to the center anytime soon, and I should make sure _now_, before you stress your body out more, that you'll be fine to walk the rest of the way. Got it?"

He held her eyes for a few moments more before he surprisingly conceded. Korra tried not to feel too victorious over such a simple win, especially one that was more an acknowledgment of common sense than a mastery of wit. Still, she couldn't deny feeling the slightest bit smug as she continued her work, only undoing the top few buttons of Noatak's coat so she could expose as little of his damaged skin as possible. It was for her own sake and his—not only did the sight turn her stomach (even as both a healer and the Avatar, which was impressive, if gruesome, in and of itself), but keeping down on the flesh exposed would assist in preventing him more damage, if not also needless pain. Once Korra had access to his torso, she would be able to bend her water through the general area.

She was practical and sometimes even abrupt, but as much as her feelings were twisted around the fate of this one man and the possibilities of his identity, Korra was not cruel. She would do what she felt she should as a healer, and what she thought Kya might do were the chief in Korra's place. After all, it was Kya herself that had put Korra in this position, and after Korra's most recent misadventures, it was only fair, only _right_ to stay in line as much as possible. Even if it meant swallowing her pride and her feelings on the matter.

The area she found access to was only about the size of a palm, but Korra would do what she could. Still, she hesitated before she simply bent the water into Noatak's system—he was already exposed to the cold, and using such cold water might only hurt his lungs. For any other waterbender, they would have no other option, for far be it from their ability set to warm glacial water with bending; but for Korra, she had the option to be kind and to not force his system into such stress.

With a sigh, Korra took a moment to concentrate and heat the water around her hands with a clever bit of firebending, a trick Mako had taught her once to increase the level of heat in a liquid without making it steam. It took some concentration, but Korra felt confident that the water would be warm enough, without being at risk to cause any sort of internal burns.

Internally, Korra admitted that Noatak had far more than enough of those, already.

"I'm going to start healing now," Korra informed him simply. "Don't move, if you can help it."

He made a huff of acquiesce, and the Avatar felt Noatak brace himself for whatever was coming. When he was still, Korra began her work, very slowly placing her hand to the area to warm his skin before she started healing. Noatak's soft hiss at the temperature difference gave her pause, until Korra figured it was more from surprise than any sort of pain.

With that, her eyes slid closed to dedicate her mind fully to her work and her element, patiently separating each drop of water to small enough sizes that it could be absorbed with minimal pain through his pores. It took more effort than she was used to, damaged as his skin was, but Korra was fairly certain that she had been successful. She wasn't usually one to work slowly when it came to healing, but she wasn't usually dealing with someone who wasn't in immediate danger—this man needed long-term healing, which was a technique of waiting and feeling the tides of the body, rather than a race against the clock as emergency bending was.

As Korra took her time in her technique, eyes closed, she didn't notice the considering look Noatak turned to give her. He hadn't missed the detail of the water's temperature; all of the healers thus far had worked with only cold water, including the Chief herself. Noatak had figured it was just the way things were done—even if he had once possessed the knowledge, now he knew nothing of healing. He simply had to trust in the abilities of his caretakers.

But this—this was different. The girl, Korra, who had caused him a fair amount of irritation over the past few hours, had already made strides in his care that the others had not in _weeks._ Even in adjusting the temperature of the water, Noatak felt his body accept Korra's ministrations more readily; not only that, but her patience was surprising. He felt only a strange pressure as the last of the water gloving her hand was absorbed, rather than stinging pain and discomfort.

Either Noatak's agonizing weeks of healing were finally being realized, or this girl—this... young woman—was some sort of miracle worker.

"Are you okay?"

Noatak was snapped out of his contemplative reverie by the sound of her voice, meeting her eyes with carefully concealed surprise. She must have caught him in his inspection of her, but she said nothing.

"Surprisingly," he admitted.

"Can I continue?"

No one had ever asked before. "You may."

It took a considerable amount of concentration for Noatak to stay aware of what she did next. Rather than cold forcing through his veins, he could barely feel as the gentle warmth moved from his side and into his left lung. The familiar aching sensation that he had nearly grown used to slowly began to dull—he couldn't imagine what she must be doing to fix that, since breathing altogether had brought that sensation, and not just the brief trek outside.

Incredible.

"There's some damage in your lungs, here." Her voice sounded contemplative. "I haven't seen it outside of pro-benders before; it's usually caused by the impact from the fall into the drain, coupled with inhaling water. It's a rookie mistake. It's strange, though..." Now, she was just rambling.

"Which means?" Noatak asked pointedly.

"Which means," Korra replied tetchily. "That either once or several times, you hit the water from a great height or with great force and inhaled—"

She cut herself off, her body growing tense beside him. Though Korra did not again open her eyes, he saw as her lips pursed and her face paled slightly.

"What?" he asked with a frown, his heartbeat speeding despite his best efforts. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just... a thought."

"A thought," Noatak repeated, waiting for her to elaborate. She didn't. "...and?"

"And nothing. It was just a thought," Korra said, and would say nothing more.

The silence between them from them on was strained, and Noatak gave up at any chance of further conversation. Korra didn't ask or explain from then on, just continued her work; though Noatak noticed it was no less exceptional than before. By the time she had finished and was pulling her hands away, the burning, itching sensation in his lungs had faded, though he noticed that the water she had used to heal him had not been extracted. Korra seemed to notice his questioning look, and said simply, "Your body needs the hydration. I dispersed the water into your blood."

He wasn't sure exactly what had set her off before, but it obviously wasn't enough to stop her from being the annoying woman he had come to expect. When he went to refasten his own coat, she pushed his hands away without so much as a word and proceeded to do the task herself. For now, Noatak decided that it might just be best not to argue. Whatever the young woman was angry about, he had enough sense to know not to help her along.

But that wouldn't stop him from asking the question that had been burning at his mind.

"Where did you learn to heal?"

Korra, who had already started walking with the expectation that he would follow, stopped and turned. Her expression was carefully constructed apathy, but Noatak wasn't a fool. He saw the anxiousness that gave her pause before answering, as well as her reluctance to be near him. It wasn't something he had an explanation for, not yet. But he would.

He would find out exactly what she was hiding.

"I learned from a woman in the Southern Tribe. She's the best in the world."

"Master Katara? Chief Kya's mother?" He asked.

Korra's wide blue eyes told him what she would not—she hadn't expected him to know. "Yes. She was my waterbending sifu."

His eyes narrowed in consideration, but slowly began to walk again, trailing along just behind Korra. There was still some time before they reached the healing center, and he wanted his wording to be precise. "I have heard that Master Katara doesn't take on just any pupil," he started carefully. "You must be a very talented bender if she decided to teach you."

Korra didn't answer for some time; she must have been taking just as much care with her words as he was. It was curious, really—she didn't seem the type to think before she spoke. There had to be more to this situation than he could have anticipated. "Katara was friends with my mom. She delivered me personally. My parents said that she was there when I bent for the first time. She started training me even before—"

Korra cut herself off. Noatak could only wonder what she would have gone on to say.

"I'm a good waterbender _because_ Katara trained me," Korra revised. "She didn't train me because I was good."

He somehow knew that the words were just half-truths. Noatak wasn't sure what the other halves could be. Frustrated, he reached out one hand to grab Korra's wrist, wincing at the pain when he spun her around to face him. "With all due respect, Chief Kya is a _good_ waterbender. Great, even. But what you just did was beyond anything that even the best healers in this tribe could offer; it was extraordinary. There's something you're not telling me, Korra."

The girl shivered. He simply assumed it to be because of the cold; he would never know how wrong he was.

She pulled her hand from his grip, turning away to take note of something in the distance. "There's the healing center. Let's go."

She kept a larger distance from his this time. He desperately wanted to ask what she was so afraid of, but he wasn't sure that he would like the answer. In minutes, they were back at the center, where Korra gestured for him to enter first. He did so, but paused in the doorway when she didn't follow. "You aren't coming in?"

"I have to go to the stables," she said. "I brought you here; that's all Kya asked me to do."

"What's in the stables?" Noatak asked.

Korra remained stubbornly silent, her arms crossed over her chest.

Noatak sighed in frustration, scowling at the young woman, but resigned in knowing that he had gotten what he could from her today. For now, he would let her think she had won. He turned and entered the ice-structured building without another word.

There were other ways to get what he wanted.

* * *

When Korra returned later from her ride with Naga, Chief Kya was waiting for her in the palace. "Noatak has asked that I make you his regular healer; he said that your skills were most impressive, and that perhaps the extra time would help you to identify him. You will report to the healing center tomorrow morning at nine o'clock sharp. Do not be late."

Korra fumed for the rest of the night at the unfairness of it all.

Once again, he had bested her.


	6. Chapter 6

**This chapter took a little longer than expected, but it's also another one of greater length. I hope you can forgive the greater time gap for the surplus of content! XD Really, it wouldn't have taken so long, but my writer's mojo has been a little odd lately, plus I had some family visiting.**

**Once again, I want to say THANK YOU for all of the lovely reviews, favorites and alerts that this story has received. In all my years on this site, I've never gotten such a great response so fast. This fic has only been up since the 12th (all in all, that's barely over three weeks!), and it already has almost 40 reviews and 3500+ hits. That's amazingly flattering and I am so thankful that you guys like this fic! Thank you so much!  
**

**Also once again, this fic is a part of the Summer of Amorra Movement over on Tumblr. I highly recommend that my fellow Amorrians check it out. As such, this chapter is dedicated to SoA:1000 and my family over at the S.S Amorra. This fic wouldn't even exist without you. LOVE YOU GAIZ OMG.  
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* * *

"Ouch! What are you doing? So much for a talented healer—"

"Will you _shut up_? You're ruining my concentration and unless you _want_ me to kill you—"

"Killing me would be a mercy at this point!"

"Then, by all means, keep bitching and squirming, 'cause I'm sure it won't be long!"

And so went Korra's first morning of healing with Noatak. By the time lunch rolled around, she was about ready to just strangle him and be done with it—whatever good manner he'd had yesterday had obviously faded now that Korra was his "official" healer (official meaning that no one else wanted to deal with him anymore, considering that they thought he was a lost cause, and at this rate, Korra wasn't too far behind them on that). He spent more time complaining about her technique than he did sitting still, which only made Korra's job that much harder.

When one brave soul stuck their head into the room to timidly interrupt, Korra was most definitely relieved. Lunch or no lunch, she was just glad to escape the infuriating man.

Really, though, the day had started something like this:

Korra had woken up early, dressing and eating in record time before she set off across town. All in all, the walk took somewhere around twenty minutes, Korra carefully making her way from the center of the city to the very outskirts, navigating through the other tribesmen and working waterbenders. Her vision was still adjusting to the lack of sunlight, making due with what pale light she could see from the sliver of moon in the sky.

When Korra arrived at the healing center, she did little to prepare but to fasten her sleeves securely around her forearms and remove her mittens. Her fingers felt the chill, but she needed the direct access to skin to heal properly. She subtly bent warmth into her fingers, keeping in mind what Kya had told her (_I made the decision not to tell Noatak of your identity as the Avatar. I will leave it at your discretion to tell him if you will, but we will not do so before you are ready)._ Korra had been relieved at that, but it also raised anxiety—she'd been waiting for Noatak to ask about her abilities, perhaps even to refuse her care because of her identity, but to find out that he had no idea... well, Korra wasn't going to tell him anytime soon.

Real Noatak or not, she wasn't going to risk confiding in him about her title. It was a miracle enough that he hadn't overheard the boys howling about it yesterday.

She'd then entered his room, starting their tense banter long before she started healing. The process repeated on a loop for the next few hours, until Korra was given her break.

"Stupid, arrogant, no-good..." She grumbled to herself, shoving her way through the throng of healers and patients, some still healing and being healed, some following Korra's own path in making their way to the mess hall, which was little more than a room large enough for the lot, floor made soft with pelts and pillows, and lined with tables carved elegantly but simply from blocks of ice.

Since the healers were also waterbenders (if slightly more clumsy when actually bending water), the entire structure itself was never in want of ice-made fixtures. Ice and pelts and tanned hides—more sophisticated as the Northern Tribes were, they were made from the very same materials that the Southern Tribes were. Hand-made, or even machine-made cloth had to be imported from other regions, usually the Earth Provinces or the Fire Colonies.

It was a complicated arrangement, one made partially from the good politics that the United Republic had formed, but underneath still fueled from the bad blood between the once-Fire-Nation and the rest of the world. Fire Lord Zuko had made reparations mainly through trade, offering priceless exports that many of the nations had gone without for the whole of the Hundred-Year War, asking for little-to-nothing in return. Over time, the arrangements had grown more equal in worth—the Water Tribes offered foods and furs, things that were commonplace to natives like Korra, but exotic and rare to the other nations. The Fire Colonies offered many of its industrialized goods, such as fabric, steel, and some rare jewels found only in the volcanic regions, as well as their superior technology. The Earth Provinces brought crops and coal, but also intel. Secrets thought to be lost to the world had simply been jealously guarded in the very depths of Ba Sing Se, where not even Princess Azula and her reign of terror could sink their claws.

And, of course, there were the (greatly diminished) Air Nomads—with little to offer, but much to gain, Tenzin's small family would thrive for generations from reparations. She knew from experience that they asked for very little, living still in the traditions of their people as monks. They didn't eat meat, which was the most expensive of food products, and wore no fine clothing. They were practical and simple, and as such, it cost the former Fire Nation very little to help support them. The most expensive endeavor had been one set in place by Avatar Aang's own funds before his death—the search for and successful finding of one last herd of flying bison.

(Oogie had been the youngest of the bison, and in Air Nomad tradition, once he was weaned, was given to the young Tenzin to care for. The rest of the herd had been left mainly in peace, but not before Aang with his magical powers of communication had miraculously convinced the flying bison to allow a team of Earth Province refugees that had been living in the temples to oversee their health. Tenzin apparently made annual trips to check up on the last of the flying bison, but from what snippets he'd told Korra over the years, it seemed that the herd was growing successfully larger. It was one of the few things Korra had ever seen Tenzin smile about.)

The trade arrangement in whole was fair, anyway. Bi-seasonal ships made port in both the Northern and Southern Tribes, bringing whatever goods the people were currently in need of (in the case of the Water Tribes, food was usually the main staple, as nearly nothing could be grown in the ice, and over-hunting and harvesting could destroy their traditional ways of life.

Korra silently mourned this fact as she stirred her bowl of jook, a far cry from a traditional lunch of sea prunes, kelp noodles, and blubbered-seal jerky.

In her silence, Korra barely noticed as another presence made its way through the throng to sit across from her. When she finally looked up, she was wholly unsurprised to find Noatak watching her, pensive and still. The usually-sharp scratch of annoyance was dulled (though the food in her growling stomach likely had something to do with the matter), but still ever-present as it seemed to be when Noatak was in close quarters.

"You want something?" Korra asked, her frown just deep enough to make clear that she would prefer he was far, far away.

"Your pardon," he admitted after some time.

Korra focused with a sharp gaze, eyes narrowing. She wasn't sure if she felt badly about the deep suspicion that rooted itself to her in that moment, but she brushed it away, anyway. Instead, she scanned his face (or what was left of it, behind his scars and burns), looking for the truth like she might read it in words.

He must have known that he had her attention, but somehow also that she was not going to be the one to speak first. With a sigh, her patient continued. "I know less than nothing about myself," he admitted. "But I know that you are absolutely infuriating."

Korra opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off with a look.

"We're very different people, Korra. That much, I can tell."

She didn't disagree, but her anger deflated. Just a little. "True."

He nodded, as if he had found the resolve to continue. "Whether you really do know me or not, I honestly couldn't tell you. But it would be dishonest for me to say that I have been acting as I would around a stranger. I've had no issues with anyone here—or, at least, not until you arrived."

Korra twitched, wanting to argue vehemently as she had been with him all morning. She knew, though, that in this room full of healers and patients, it was not the time nor the place. Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and made the conscious decision that she would let him continue and keep her temper in check as best she could.

It was not an easy thing to do.

"I know that you told the chief that you couldn't identify me," Noatak said, his voice pitched lower, now. He looked troubled in his momentary silence before he leaned forward just slightly. "Not yet, anyway. And part of me believes it, Korra, but not all of me. There are things that you know, or at least things that you suspect, and yet, you're keeping me in the dark. It's frustrating—I don't know if you can imagine."

Guilt—that was what she felt, even distantly, as she took in his discouraged expression. Korra tried and failed to tell herself that this was best, that she should know all the facts before disclosing them, but she was having difficulties.

These weren't the thoughts of a man who had knowingly terrorized an entire city. These were the thoughts of a man who had less than nothing.

"I..." Korra trailed off into silence, glancing around before she lowered her voice and leaned forward in kind. "Look," she muttered unhappily. "This morning didn't go that great; I know. I'm sorry. But I've been here for, like, what, a day? Two? Do I have some suspicions over who you could be? Sure. But I don't want to get your hopes up, or _down,_ as things might be. The guy you _could_ be was definitely not a role model, Noatak. If I'm going to do this, I want to do it right—not just for you, but for _everyone_. If I screw this up, I could cause a lot of problems."

He met her eyes silently, seemingly searching for something that Korra couldn't understand. After a time, she forced herself to look away, down into her bowl of lumpy porridge. She stirred it aimlessly, wishing she could find the answers inside.

"The day we met..." he started hesitantly, trailing off into silence. "You called me Amon."

Korra imagined that she felt her heart stop.

"I thought I told you to forget that."

"How could I?" He snapped in return. "That might be the one honest thing you've said since I met you. Every time you think you figure something out, you shut me out. I feel like some—some..." His expression twisted in distaste. "Some scolded _pup_. And what are you but a _child?_ You're supposed to be helping me!"

Korra glanced around, frustrated with her own inability to argue when she felt so stifled by the presence of others. She started to get up. "Noatak, this isn't the place for this—"

His hand reached out and grabbed her wrist, holding Korra fast. When she faced him, she didn't see so much as the usual wince of pain at the rough treatment of his still-tender fingers. "_Make_ it the place, Korra. I'm fast running out of patience, and if your reactions are to be believed, you would be a better judge of the consequences than I."

Korra swallowed spasmodically, feeling everything go very still (including, possibly, her heart).

Consequences, he said.

_Or else... there will be **severe** consequences._

Her bowl, which had been tightly clutched in her hand, slipped from her fingers and broke apart on the ground. In Noatak's moment of distraction, Korra gave one huge wrench away from the man and bolted, nearly scampering like a frightened child in her need to be away from him. _Run_, her body told her, and even though Korra hadn't run away from anything in her life, there was no fighting herself or her instincts in that moment, and she ran.

She stopped for no one, ducking and weaving through the crowded halls, equal parts uncaring and unhearing of the confused and worried voices that called out to her. Korra doubted even Aang himself could have stopped her, then, but also doubted that he would have tried.

She heard only one voice calling out to her, and it only made her run faster.

Until she was out of the city, out of the walls, running even without Naga beside her, Korra kept going until the only things left were the moon and the sky, the cliffs and the sea, the waves and the wind, and the salt of her tears.

* * *

Korra was sure that, under normal circumstances in a more normal place, the sun might be somewhere around setting, rather than the moon hovering low in the sky. She could picture it, almost, behind her eyelids, almost painfully held shut. Korra rubbed her frozen eyelashes between her ungloved fingers.

There were footsteps coming from behind—this time, though, Korra wasn't nearly as surprised when he crouched beside her.

"You seem to have a penchant for cliffs," Aang said with a warm chuckle, his iridescent form settling beside his young reincarnation.

"You seem to like following me to them," Korra countered with a sniffle. Fond of Aang as she was, Korra was in no mood to joke. She was much more inclined—as most seventeen-year-olds were—to mope until she was well and ready to be done.

Aang sighed, barely a whisper of imaginary sound over the rasp of the wind. "Korra—"

"If you're here to tell me I made a mistake, I don't want to hear it," she snapped, burying her face into her knees, pulled and held close to her chest. "I already know."

For a few moments, Aang said nothing, simply letting time pass peacefully between them. But, Korra figured, as much time as she had, he must have, too. "You know," he started after a moment. "It's not a bad thing to be afraid, Korra. I know Tenzin told you the same."

"I shouldn't be afraid. I'm the Avatar," Korra mumbled, voice muffled by her parka.

"Who ever told you that the Avatar couldn't be afraid every once in a while?"

Korra looked up, meeting her predecessor's eyes. "I..."

"There is no shame in being afraid, Korra, not now or ever. Do you think I was unafraid when I faced Yakone? He, too, made me feel helpless and terrified, much as his son has made you feel in the past. The original problem lay in Yakone, but I fear that his bending was not his only tool of revenge. It was my responsibility to keep him secure, but he was able to escape. You could even say that this whole incident is of my doing, and for that, Korra, I am truly sorry. I am sorry for the pain you inadvertently suffered at my hands."

"No!" She protested. "No, Aang, this was _not_ your fault. This is no one's fault but... but Amon's." Korra paused, shuddering in revulsion at the thought. "_He_ was responsible for his actions!"

"Was he? I was under the impression that the manner of raising a child had quite a bit of influence on their outcome. If Amon, if _Noatak_ had been born with a different father, do you truly think he would have turned out the same way?"

"I—"

"And, Korra, let us keep in mind that _Amon_, as we know him, is dead. It matters little if he is alive or not, because the _people_ think he is dead. They sleep safely at night. Would you disturb that peace by telling Republic City that Amon is alive when you have circumstantial evidence at best? This man, _this_ Noatak, has no memories of being Amon. How would you feel if you revealed him to be Amon and it turned out that he was not? How would you justify such a thing to yourself, let alone to this man who already thinks himself a monster?" Aang's tone was gentle, but his words were severe. Korra shrunk back—if this was where Tenzin got his infamous steely-cool manner from, Korra was _not_ going to argue.

"That's what I—"

"That's what your intentions have been meant for? Well, if that were so, would you truly treat this man the way you have been treating him? He is as lost and as confused as you are."

"If he _is_ Amon, then he deserves it!" Korra cut in.

"And if he is _not_ Amon, then he does not," Aang replied with a sharp look. "Does a man with the potential to be innocent _deserve_ your fury, Korra? The Avatar has no place to be angry over personal matters, no matter the injustices they have faced at the hands of one or many. In their judgement, they must be fair in all things. If you cannot compartmentalize, then Amon will have won. He will have corrupted the incorruptible, and the delicate balance of equality between benders and nonbenders will be lost. In the end, the man you knew as Amon was always prepared to become a martyr to his cause, if he thought it would prove advantageous."

Korra struggled to find words, _rational_ words, even through her anger. Instead, she only found herself unsuccessful. "He almost ended the Avatar Cycle, Aang! What would the world have done then, if not for you?"

"And what would the world have done if the Avatar Cycle had ended with me, as it well and truly should have?"

Words failed her altogether, now. "W-wha—"

"History is written by the victors, Korra. There was a time when the world believed me to be dead; a clever gambit, they said. What few ever knew and even fewer remember is that I _was_ killed—in the Avatar State, no less. As Roku before me said, that is the only way to end the Avatar Cycle, and it is. I was killed while in the Avatar State." Aang stopped, took a breath, and continued. "Katara saved me using water from the Northern Spirit Oasis. However... I know that scant minutes before, she had offered to use the same water to heal the scar of the man that was then Prince Zuko. Had circumstances turned out any differently... you may not have been the Avatar. Had circumstances been different, it is unlikely that you would have been born at all."

Aang gave her a minute to let that sink in.

For Korra's part, the world suddenly felt much colder.

"In some ways, I wish things could have been slightly different, Korra. I was young when I learned that I was the Avatar; I was too young. I was only twelve years old, and I was not nearly old enough to bear the burden. But _you_... you knew from the time you were barely walking. In some ways, this is a blessing, but it is very much a curse. You were never given time to become your own person outside of being the Avatar. You were not able to make friends outside of your responsibility, and you were not able to ever truly be a child as even I was. On the contrary, you never grew to resent your responsibility, as I and many of the other Avatars once did. Truth be told, I cannot tell you which is better."

Korra let out a shuddering breath, unsure of what to say. She'd never really realized... any of it.

"Every Avatar is different, Korra, and each has their own decisions to make. They have their own way of doing things. But that doesn't mean we can stop doing the _right_ things." Aang sighed, climbing to his feet. "Come, now. I am sure my daughter is beside herself at your disappearance."

"Unlikely," Korra replied simply, but followed suit. "She probably just let Naga out of the stables and followed her on a wild goose-turkey chase all over the icecap. Naga's a great tracker, but she's still pretty young. She gets distracted when I'm not there to keep her on track."

Aang chuckled, falling into step beside the young woman, comfortable despite the tension still lingering between them. Maybe his nonchalant attitude came with being a spirit and thus having little to worry about, but for Korra's mistakes.

For a time, they walked in silence, before Korra decided that if she had already been taken to task so thoroughly, there was no sense in refusing to ask for more advice. If she asked nicely enough, she expected that Aang would be more pleasant in delivering the information.

"What should I do about Noatak?" Korra asked, her gaze fixed on the ice before her feet. "You said that he might not be Amon, but you must know for sure. Is he a danger to me, to all of us?"

"Your confidence in my omniscience is flattering," Aang answered fondly. "But there is a flaw in your question, Korra. You asked me if this man is Amon, but you know the answer yourself. Whether he was _once_ Amon, I will leave that discovery to you. However, I can be quite sure in telling you that this man is not Amon at present, no matter his past."

Korra glanced up to the former Avatar. "So... he might have _been_ Amon, but he isn't _currently_; that's what you're saying?"

"Precisely."

The young waterbender nearly growled in frustration, kicking viciously at a chunk of ice in her path. "How can I be sure he isn't dangerous? How do I know that he won't just snap one day?"

"I found over time that extending the hand of friendship is a much more effective deterrent than hostility."

She took a moment to process. "You're saying I should try to be his _friend? _But he's dangerous!"

"Korra, one of my most trusted friends started out as one of my greatest enemies. There is something to be said for offering second chances and forgiveness, especially if you are the one that was wronged."

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not that great at this peaceful-airbender-monk stuff," she grumbled, still considering. The thought of letting her guard down still felt like ice in her stomach.

"It will come," Aang soothed. "In many ways, you remind me of Katara when she was young. She grew into her wisdom, Korra, and never think otherwise." At Korra's surprised look, he chuckled. "Katara could be quite the grudge-holder when she was your age, and even before. During our travels together, she was quick to offer her trust to strangers, but she never forgot when that trust was betrayed. Never let it be said that a waterbender lacks in inner-fire."

Korra raised a brow, and if the former Avatar wasn't a spirit, she would have said that he flushed slightly as he averted his gaze. Aang cleared his throat. "What I'm saying, Korra, is that you have someone with great wisdom who would readily stand beside you. I advise you to write to Katara about your troubles. Ask her for advice, and I promise she will help you in any way that she is able. She thinks of you as family. You _are_ family. And, in the meantime, you and Noatak can attempt to settle your differences."

Write to Katara—now that _was_ a good idea. Korra wasn't quite sure about all of this grudge-holding business (to her, Katara had always seemed all-knowing and peaceful, but so did most old people), but, at the very least, perhaps she could get another opinion. In any case, Korra hadn't spoken to Katara since she had returned to Republic City as a fully-realized Avatar.

"I'll do that," Korra agreed, feeling a little more settled.

"Kya will also provide a listening ear, if you need one. She is busy, but she will always make time for you."

The young woman nodded in assent. The two walked in silence a while longer, until Korra could start to see the faint glow of lights. Aang stopped, and Korra turned to face him.

"This is where I leave you, Korra. I've stayed quite a while already. I would ask you to seriously consider all that I have told you tonight."

Korra nodded, placing her closed fist against her open, opposite palm in a traditional Water Tribe bow of reverence and gratitude. "Thank you, Aang. And thank you for staying with me."

Aang nodded in response, smiling faintly. "The Winter Solstice grows nearer. Over the next few weeks, it will become less strenuous for you to talk to any of your past lives, and it will be easier for us to stay. Meditate to clear your mind of anger and pain, and we will assist you in any way that we can. You will be better for it in both mind and body, as both a person and the Avatar."

Korra nodded once more in assent.

"Give my regards to both my wife and children. Though I cannot speak with them as readily, I do think of them often."

"I will."

The form before her faded away, and in his place, Korra saw a huge shadow bounding toward her, followed by excited snuffles. In seconds, Naga was upon her master, nudging Korra's chest with her snout and lapping at her face. Following behind were a group of people, lanterns held in hand and hoods up to protect them from the cold.

..._cold_.

Korra swayed on her feet, blinking hard in an attempt to clear her vision. What she had taken for the landscape blurring into a mess of color, she suddenly noticed extended also to the faces of the rescue party.

"Korra!" Exclaimed a familiar voice in relief, stepping forward. The light from her lantern was just enough to illuminate Kya's blurry features. "I'm so glad you're alright!"

Korra attempted to agree, but the words came out a mess. In fact, she was feeling pretty tired. Maybe it was better if she sat down or... something.

"Aang sends his regards," the young Avatar mumbled, and promptly fell unconscious.


	7. Chapter 7

**I am soooo sorry for the delay! I've been caught up in getting ready to go back to college and work and all those awful things, including a smidge of writer's block. **

**I got a review asking in this story was discontinued, and I will tell you now that the answer is NO. If at any point the length between chapters is unreasonable, don't be afraid to message me here or on my Tumblr and ask me what's going on. Chances are, I'm probably caught up in work like I have been the past few weeks, but I have NO intentions of leaving this story unfinished. Unlike my others, I know exactly where I want this to go and how it will end. It's just the getting there that's the problem.  
**

**Blah blah blah, listen to me whine. Thank you for your continued support, guys, and I hope this chapter makes up for the wait and I apologize for any typos. **

**Also, SoA, et cetera.**

* * *

Noatak knew they didn't blame him for Korra's disappearance. It couldn't have been his fault, really. He hadn't done anything on purpose, and there were more than enough witnesses that were as clueless as he was.

Still... she had been missing for hours, now. It hadn't occurred to him before that, even though he rarely knew where she was, others almost always did. Korra's absence seemed to set everyone on edge, but most noticeably, Chief Kya. She was a woman not usually ruffled, even when her son caused a ruckus among patients, or when everyone, including herself, was run ragged. That Noatak had never seen Kya anywhere approaching panicked was a testament to her strong will—in fact, the only time he had seen her even the slightest bit angry was the prior day, when dealing with the village boys.

Now, though, Kya's will had little hold on her emotions; pale-faced and barking orders, tribesmen scrambled over themselves to either get out of her way or to accomplish her orders as soon as possible. It seemed that, if only for a short time, for Korra to leave without telling anyone of where she was going was unusual. However, what seemed to bother the Chief more was something Noatak didn't understand—that someone named Naga was accounted for, even though Korra was not.

Noatak pretended that this implication didn't bother him; that the idea of Korra and this _Naga_ being inseparable didn't coerce a strange and inexplicable twinge from the general area of his scarred chest. He pretended. Well, at the very least, he didn't think on the matter overly much.

Either way, he knew that this was not his fault.

That knowledge did nothing to stop him from feeling guilty. It did nothing to stop him from pacing in his room, to stop him from demanding he be allowed to accompany the Chief in her endeavor to find Korra, and nothing to stop him from being furious when he was refused. Logically, he argued to himself, it was his responsibility to assist in the search-and-rescue, as it was his fault the need existed at all. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that his mind was overrun with scenarios involving the icy cliffs, the dark night, the sheer winds, and Korra's lack of protective gear on departure; it had even _less_ than nothing to do with the fact that he felt almost sick thinking about any one of those scenarios.

And, of course, there was absolutely _no_ chance of it having anything to do with the idea that he, Noatak, a nameless, hopeless man—or so he had been until introduced to a certain young waterbender—_cared_.

But he really, really did.

In the ensuing hours of damning silence caused by the absence of the tribesmen (or anyone that was able-bodied and wasn't _him_), Noatak spent equal time seething and grudgingly worrying himself to the point of nauseousness. The worry was not for the reasons he expected, which was even _more_ worrying—it had nothing to do with the thought that, without Korra, he might never know the truth about himself or his past, or that without her, he might never be healed. Instead, the one resounding, throbbing, aching worry was the simple idea that_ I might never see her again, and it's my fault._

...Who said that it wasn't his fault? Noatak couldn't remember who had bothered to reassure him with false logic so very feeble.

Unfortunately, though, without Kya's approval, Noatak had nothing to do but wait. He nearly drove himself mad, until, hours later, he heard the approaching buzz of voices. Knowing that they must have found Korra, he sighed in relief and went toward the entrance to the healing center, intending to wait for the Chief and their mutual... annoyance. However, as the voices got closer, Noatak realized that something was very wrong.

"You two, start the stoves. I need water heated immediately! You, go prepare a room! And you, find my husband and son and tell them that I have found Korra; make haste! Everyone else, get out of my way! Naga, come— Naga, no! Come!"

Following closely behind the Chief's rushed words was a loud crash. Noatak didn't hesitate in rushing toward the sound, hissing under his breath as his body protested the action. He wasn't exactly sure what to expect, but when he rounded the corner, seeing Kya pulling at the reins of some huge, furry beast was _not_ nearly it in the least. The Chief and the animal seemed to notice him at the same time, but Kya's address to him was lost in the sound of another series of crashes, the creature shoving its massive body through the narrow halls, knocking everything in its way to the ground.

Noatak had seconds to react, but never enough—he had no idea how to deal with this, or even what _this_ was. Luckily, the creature skidded to a halt just before him. Noatak held very still as it sniffed at him; it seemed to have the shape of a dog with the sturdiness of an arctic bear—surely, nothing like this existed in the North, to his knowledge. That was probably well, since he got a glimpse of huge, sharp teeth in the instant before the animal licked his face, leaving him unpleasantly slimy.

Noatak grimaced, rubbing tenderly at his damaged skin, but was soon distracted by something much more important than his own discomfort—the sight of a familiar figure hunched over the animal's back. Korra was haphazardly seated in a saddle of some kind, but she didn't seem to be conscious. When he turned to question Kya on the matter, he found the woman already beside him, attempting to lead the animal once more. "Before you ask, I don't know what happened. She was conscious until we found her, but she is most likely hypothermic. Any other damage will have to be assessed once I can get her to a room, but this _cursed beast—_Naga, _come!_"

Noatak stared in surprise. _This_ was Naga?

All of a sudden, he felt a little stupid, but strangely relieved.

"Naga," he said carefully, and the polar bear dog turned her attention away from the chief. Huge, brown eyes focused with surprising intelligence on Noatak, who hesitated only for a moment before he held out his hand to pat the creature's great muzzle. Naga whined softly, seemingly in content at the gentle touch, but Noatak also knew inexplicably that the animal was worried for her master.

"Chief, if I may...?"

Kya huffed, handing over the heavy, well-worn leather lead, crossing her arms over her chest. "I wasn't aware that you knew Naga."

"I don't," Noatak answered truthfully, at somewhat of a loss, but unwilling to think about it too much when Korra was still in danger. "Naga, come."

With a heavy sigh, the beast followed as Noatak gently directed her down the hall, following at the Chief's back. The animal's strange trust was strangely reassuring, even though the situation was still dire; there was a strange, nagging feeling in the back of his mind that counted this as a victory. Noatak got the inexplicable sense that not many animals had ever trusted him before.

It took some maneuvering—even with Naga's cooperation, her size was a bit of an issue—but they were finally able to bring Naga (and Korra) to whatever room Kya's healers had been able to procure. Several people worked swiftly on the straps holding Korra to the saddle, and within moments, were carefully lifting her down and toward a strange depression in the floor, not terribly wide, but deep. He frowned in confusion, but didn't stay so for long, as a pair of healers brought in an enormous ceramic bowl filled with steaming water. He observed for only a moment before Chief Kya noticed his extended presence.

"Out!" Kya ordered, spinning him brusquely and pushing him toward the exit. "This is no place for men _or_ for dogs, not that there's a terrible difference. Now, both of you, _out_."

And that was how Noatak found himself playing nursemaid to a juvenile, half-ton polar bear dog.

* * *

Everything was cold and everything _hurt._ Korra was keenly aware of these simple facts as she blinked blearily, taking in the distinct white-blue color of the ice around her. The next thing she noticed was that her body seemed incredibly heavy; she attributed that to the thick mass of furs and woven blankets that covered her from neck to toe. Her chest hurt from deep within, lungs stinging as she tried to breathe, and her mouth was dreadfully dry.

She hadn't felt so bad since the time she woke up in the Air Temple after that whole incident with Amon and Tarrlok and that awful cabin. In fact, her body felt pretty similar to that time, and—

Korra turned her head, and everything came flooding back in an overwhelming wave; almost as astounding as the sight before her. Sprawled on the floor of the narrow-walled room was Naga, deep brown eyes watching Korra carefully. Naga did not rise to greet Korra as she usually would, however—leaning against the polar bear dog's side (where Korra usually lay herself) was Noatak, sound asleep.

Korra groaned softly as she wormed one arm from under her blankets, rubbing at her eyes before taking a closer look. Noatak's head was tilted at a strange angle, implying that he had been asleep for a while. His scars stood out in stark contrast to his pale skin—paler than usual. Was he sick? Korra frowned; no, she didn't think so. It took her a moment to realize that his jacket was absent, leaving him in a thin, sleeveless shirt that fastened at the side; standard issue for patients that needed attention to their torso. Noatak's body twitched slightly, but he seemed no closer to waking. More likely than anything, he was probably cold. But where _was_ his jacket?

From the corner of her eye, she saw blue (a color so common that she naturally overlooked it as force of habit), and Korra could not describe the feeling she had when she realized that the reason Noatak was not _wearing_ his jacket was because it had carefully been laid over _her_ shoulders.

Slowly, haltingly, Korra raised herself first onto her elbows, and when that didn't hurt—well, not _that_ much—onto her hands. She clutched the blankets (and Noatak's jacket, but she was trying to ignore that as much as possible) to her chest, realizing as her body was exposed to the chilled air that she was in nothing but her underwrappings. Korra flushed fiercely, even though Noatak couldn't see and Naga didn't care. It was the principle of the matter! She made a face at the thought.

Korra rolled her shoulders. Nothing seemed to be wrong aside from her muscles being sore and some tingling in her fingers and toes. It wasn't anything she hadn't dealt with before, having grown up in the South Pole. Plus, if she was waking up here, she had to assume that the Healers had already tended to her.

On the other side of the room, Noatak shifted. Korra's heart sped as she clutched the blankets closer, silently praying to Tui and La that he wouldn't open his eyes when Korra was still so... exposed. Really, it wasn't even her state of undress that bothered her; in warmer months, Korra had trained with Mako and Bolin in her wrappings, but that was different. Then, even though she knew that the brothers were both attracted to her, the tension was... well, innocent. Plus, Mako had Asami at the time, and Bolin had learned from their previous incident that 'romantic entanglements' with a teammate were a bad idea. It seemed so simple, then. She didn't feel like she was naked when she had her friends at her side and the water at her command.

She sighed in relief when Noatak once again stilled. Korra realized, though, that it probably wouldn't be long until he awoke for real, and by then, she should most definitely be dressed. However, when she scanned the floor and the wide ice shelf where the healers stored their vials of herb-infused waters, she couldn't spot her clothes, or even the thin garments kept for patients. Korra cursed under her breath. She couldn't very well go roaming the halls in her underwrappings in search of her own clothes, now could she? And, if there was one thing Korra was, it was prideful. She had more dignity than to wrap herself in a blanket and wander aimlessly, or so she liked to think.

Still... Korra glanced down, swallowing her discomfort as she looked at the jacket. All things considered, it really was her best option. Holding it up to eye-level, Korra observed the stitching and the fabric—things she had learned about as a young girl, memories nearly faded with time, back before Korra knew she was the Avatar; back when she was young, impressionable, and before she was taken from her mother to live in the White Lotus Compound. Even though Korra had never cared for such simple things as sewing and mending, she'd always held the teachings of her mother close. Now, Korra's knowing-but-clumsy gaze took in the tight stitches of the seams, surprisingly solid for something worn by a patient. It was only upon closer inspection that Korra noticed the sigil sewn into the fabric, nearly obscured by the thick collar—a sigil that Korra was surprisingly familiar with; Clan Yugoda, Master Katara's once-mentor. Yugoda's family line was a long one, one of the most well-known in Water Tribe culture, even in the Southern Tribe. According to popular legend, Yugoda's line bore the first healers, back when the Water Tribes were a warlike people, roaming the world in their grand ships made from the skeletons of the huge creatures of the sea.

Anything belonging to Clan Yugoda was valuable and well-made; how did Noatak get one of their coats?

For now, she put the matter out of her mind. Korra could always ask him when he was awake, but until then, she didn't want to sit around in her wraps and wait for that to happen. Tentatively, Korra slid the heavy coat around her shoulders. It was too big, but that wasn't surprising—Noatak was bigger than her, both taller and more broad in the shoulders; as such, the neckline drooped to her clavicles, and the sleeves were much too long. Korra attempted to push them up, but the wrist fastenings were too wide even for her forearms. She marveled at the size—it had seemed to fit Noatak so well, and she didn't see him as particularly large, and neither was she small. Without the size to fill it out, the buttons on the side gaped open to show glimpses of her waist. And it actually smelled quite nice—Korra mentally stomped on that thought. Well, it was better than before, Korra had to admit as she rolled the fastenings between tingling fingers. Idly, she noticed that they were quite beautiful; bits of pearlescent shell wrapped in ivory from the tusks of tiger seals. Simple, but tasteful; a stark contrast to the gaudy and overstated fashion Korra had grown used to seeing in Republic City.

She wondered if Amon... if Noatak (the other Noatak?) had worn things like this when he was young. Korra shook her head slightly, sighing, her eyes turning to the still-sleeping Noatak. After his... unexpected act of kindness, it was hard for Korra to think of him in the same angry, hateful way she had before.

And she had Aang's words to think about, too.

Friendship... could it really be that simple?

Shakily, Korra stood, her hands supporting her weight equally with her shaky knees. The coat fell to mid-thigh, just long enough to cover her wraps. Small blessings, Korra supposed, but was thankful anyway. Her hair was undone, she realized, falling loose around her shoulders instead of being held back by her usual and traditional fastenings.

Korra's face colored when she realized it. No matter her state of undress, she'd _never_ voluntarily taken her hair down in front of others. It wasn't right, at least in Water Tribe tradition, for a woman to have her hair undone in front of just anyone. It implied sloppiness, a lack of effort or caring—or, on the other hand, in circumstances much more _private_, it was considered a very intimate gesture of trust. The fact that she _was_ in private, though, and with _Noatak_... it was more of a subtle implication than Korra could bear, even more than the fact that he had been let into her rooms without supervision while she _slept._

She was going to _murder_ Kya.

And, of course, with that realization, Noatak began to stir.

Korra cursed her luck, the spirits, the Chief—anything she could think of.

The man groaned softly, his arms tightening where they were crossed over his torso. Unlike Korra, there was no slow fade to wakefulness; he went from asleep to immediately awake, eyes open and scanning the room to take in his unfamiliar surroundings. His gaze stopped when it landed on Korra, eyebrows drawing together in confusion before he looked to the size. Naga, finally noticing that he was awake, wagged her tail with near-violent happiness, but did not move just yet. She waited until he leaned forward and was supporting his own weight, but once Noatak was settled, Naga was up and greeting Korra with puppyish enthusiasm. Noatak observed the exchange in silence, and under his watchful eyes, Korra silently squirmed.

Luckily, it was Noatak to break the silence.

"You're okay," he observed simply, but with an underlying tone of concern that Korra might not have heard were she still so obsessed with hating him. Life had a funny way of making her realize how stupid and pigheaded she was being.

"I'm hard to kill," she replied wryly, with a slight smile, which quickly faded. "I'd offer to help you up, but, er—that would probably be a little more than either of us are equipped to deal with, at present."

Noatak frowned in contemplation, but only just then seemed to take in her state of undress. His eyes widened, darting to hers from where they had looked her over, tinted with something like guilt at being caught. What finally seemed to really embarrass him was the state of her hair, though; his scarred face flushed with discomfort, quickly turning his face away and averting his icy gaze. He muttered something under his breath as he got to his feet, looking at anything but Korra as he gathered his thoughts.

"I should—Chief Kya was worried," Noatak said rather lamely.

Korra raised a brow, her own embarrassment smothered by her amusement at the situation. "Seems she wasn't the only one," she said teasingly, drawing his eyes to hers before she gave him a once-over.

Noatak huffed slightly in a show of being affronted, but the tint of his face was now spreading down his neck, so Korra knew she had him there. "Well, I suppose there was Naga," he admitted, looking up to the ceiling in a desperate attempt to keep his eyes off her.

This situation was one huge mess of awkward, funny, and strangely flattering. Neither of her male teammates had ever really _looked_ at her with anything other than their own boyish hormones and the difference here was—

"Naga, of course," Korra replied with a tiny twist of her lips, the polar bear dog's tail whipping from side to side at the sound of her name. Korra gave her friend a fond rub behind the ears before it hit her. "Wait, Naga—"

"She nearly barreled me over when Kya was trying to lead her," Noatak replied, and it was his turn to smile slightly. If he hadn't said it in such a good-natured manner, Korra might have been worried.

Even so, Korra grimaced; Naga and Kya didn't have the best track record. "That must have been a sight."

"Truly," he replied with humor, his grin a quick flash of teeth that seemed to light up his face in a way Korra hadn't seen in all the days she'd known him. "But Naga let me lead her, instead, and then she was perfectly well-behaved." Korra stared at him in stunned silence. After a long stretch of seconds, Noatak shrugged, seemingly equally at a loss. "It surprised me, too. I'm no great lover of animals, but Naga kept me in good company for the past few days."

"Few—few _days_?" Korra bit out. "How long have I been out?!"

"I believe this is the morning of the fourth day—but I could be wrong, I'm not sure how long I slept."

Korra's mouth worked but no words came out. She didn't she'd been _that_ ill.

"Kya said you were suffering from hypothermia and frostbite, but that she healed you to the best of her ability," Noatak continued. "I—actually, she should tell you this herself, I suppose. I'll find her, shall I?" Keeping his gaze steadily away from her, Noatak went for the door.

Against Korra's better judgement, when he passed, her hand found his wrist, gently keeping her hold as not to hurt him, but firm enough to give him pause. He turned to look at her, though, whatever words she had been planning to say left her.

"Thank you," Korra said instead, meaning everything—_thank you for watching Naga, thank you for not being angry, thank you for staying by my side when I've barely given you anything, and thank you for caring enough about me to sacrifice your own comfort._

The words were not said aloud, but his eyes told her that he understood.

"I'm glad you are safe," Noatak replied quietly, blue eyes locked on blue with startling sincerity. "I didn't mean to scare you, Korra, and for that, I am truly sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," she said automatically, but was surprised by the truth of it. "What you said to me—you were right. I need to be honest with you, and it wasn't fair for me to try to withhold the truth. But, there are things..." Korra's voice faltered, the dark shadow of Amon's memory making her gaze flinch away until she steeled herself and tried again. "It won't be easy, and it's going to take time, but my behavior was immature and uncalled for."

He searched her face like he could find the answers written there. "And those are the thoughts that kept you in the cold until you nearly died?"

"Like I said, I'm hard to kill," she answered, a lump raising in her throat and panic in her chest.

Well, it was now or never.

"I'm the Avatar."


	8. Chapter 8

**kjsdhskdfjhsdkjghdfgd **

**I got art! The lovely and amazing Amorramatic over on Tumblr drew a picture of the coat scene in chapter seven, the link to which I will be posting on my profile. Seriously, I still can't get over it, it's perfect and lovely and jdghdfkghdfkgjhdkjghdkjghdkj fghdkjgd  
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**Okay, so I might have gotten a little motivation to get this chapter done early because of art. And I might have decided to post it tonight instead of tomorrow because of all the really, really nice messages I've been getting on my Tumblr and deviantArt. Sue me, I love my readers!  
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**All in all, this isn't my _favorite_ chapter, per se, but it was necessary. And it's still interesting. It was just weird for me to write.  
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**Also, SoA.**

**And OMG WHAT THE EFF. I've apparently gotten like a whole fucking thousand more hits since two days ago?! Are you guys insane?! JFC ;U; THANK YOU!  
**

* * *

"You're the— what?" Noatak faltered and went silent, staring at Korra like she'd suddenly sprouted an extra limb. "Are you sure you're feeling okay, Korra?"

Korra made a face, a little put off by his attitude, but she knew that this wasn't going to be a simple revelation by any means. And, if she had to choose a reaction, she supposed incredulity was much better than a murderous rampage.

"I can prove it," she replied automatically, barely waiting for her words to sink in before she was stomping one bare foot into the ice, sliding it in a quarter-turn—a move much more reminiscent of earthbending, but then again, bending ice required more force than bending water. A depression fell into the floor, revealing what looked like a small pool. She noted the recognition on Noatak's face, releasing her grip on his wrist to turn her whole body toward the pool. Extending her arms, palms up with elbows bent, she sank into a waterbending stance, melting the ice she had forced downward and filling the pool with water. Feet shoulder-width apart, upright and with palms parallel to her chest, Korra exhaled, using subtle firebending to heat the water so it steamed.

Korra turned, and, seeing that Noatak's expression was still dubious, she sighed and moved toward him; a slow, graceful twirl on tiptoes ruffled both her hair and his. She tugged at the hem of her—his—coat, pulling it down further. She flushed a little, realizing that she had probably exposed more of her legs and torso than she would have liked when she bent in such revealing clothing. Then, she fidgeted under his gaze, filled with unreadable expression. "There's no earth on the icecaps, but I suppose that's three out of four."

"I should have realized," he said, half-turning away from her. Korra couldn't deny that the gesture stung a little bit.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," she replied quietly. "It was on a need-to-know basis and..." It was a flimsy excuse. If it was really on a need-to-know basis, he should have been one of the first. "I was scared," Korra said instead.

"Of me?"

"Yes," she admitted. When he started to turn away further, though, she reached for him again; this time, her hand folded around his. "It isn't your fault, Noatak. It wasn't anything you did."

"There must have been—"

"There wasn't," Korra said firmly. "The reason I was out in the cold for so long was because I was talking to Avatar Aang. He made me realize that I was being really unfair to you." With a firm tug and a slight squeeze that made her heart leap, Korra turned him toward her. Noatak simply looked at her for a very long time, longer than Korra was comfortable with, but she held his gaze with all the strength and reassurance she could muster.

"When you healed me, you heated the water with firebending. And when Kya broke up that fight between yourself and the village boys, she mentioned something about a title. I was too blind to see what was before me... but that doesn't answer my questions."

"Then ask them," Korra said. "If I can answer, I will."

"Truthfully?" Noatak asked, his gaze searching.

"Yes."

There were no words exchanged, but the atmosphere changed—Noatak's tense shoulders relaxed, his expression less severe, more open. Whatever it was that he was looking for in her face, he seemed to have found it, because he squeezed her hand gently in return. He must have been starved for human contact, Korra realized; the healers offering healing hands only, that dealt as much pain as they relieved, and with no friends to visit, she was his only companion.

Maybe the reason he and Naga got on so well was because they had so much in common—both with the potential to be dangerous, both abandoned by fate or circumstance, and both more or less _rescued_ by a certain young Avatar.

"Thank you," Noatak replied. "And I _will_ be taking you up on that, but for now, I really should find Chief Kya. She'll need to make sure you're okay." Korra released his hand in acquiescence.

"Tell her to bring my clothes," Korra muttered, looking away. Their faces flushed, equally embarrassed, but Noatak nodded. Turning, he was gone, leaving Korra alone in the room with Naga. Korra's thoughts churned as she absently set the floor to rights, burying the pool under ice once more.

Shivering, Korra turned her face into the fur-lined collar of the coat, inhaling deeply before she could stop herself.

"Oh, Naga," she groaned. "I'm in trouble."

Naga huffed softly and wagged her tail.

* * *

Kya entered with Korra's clothing in hand, lowering the curtain over the doorway so Korra could change in relative privacy. With her back turned to the Chief, Korra didn't notice that she was on the receiving end of a strange look due to her current state of dress. It didn't really matter—Korra knew that Kya had noticed, whether or not she saw the reaction.

"I'm surprised you let him stay, considering that I wasn't conscious. I thought that went against the Northern ways of, I dunno, chastity and purity or whatever." Korra hopped to pull up her pants and shrugged on her shirt.

Kya scoffed. "Well, I left Naga in here to guard you."

Korra looked over her shoulder and made a face. "Puh_-lease_. You left Naga because _you_ didn't want to watch her."

"Oh, pish-posh," Kya replied, waving her off with a smile. "Don't fasten your shirt yet, let me check your back and chest."

Korra obediently hopped up on the ice table, letting her shirt hang from her shoulders and exposing most of her back. She winced slightly as the cold water made its way into her body (faster than what Korra would have done, but she knew Kya was busy and needed to be done quickly), but made no complaint. After a few minutes, she spoke up. "Aang told me to try to befriend Noatak."

Kya made a sound of acknowledgement. "And will you?"

"I think so," Korra answered. "He's... really, he's not bad. He's been pretty nice sometimes, actually... and if he _does_ turn out to be the _other_ Noatak, it might not be a bad thing to..."

"Keep your friends close and enemies closer?" Kya inquired.

Korra winced at the description, but the Chief wasn't all wrong. "I just..."

"Don't get so close that you cannot bear the consequences, Korra," the older woman warned, drawing Korra's surprised gaze as she looked over her shoulder. "A patient he might be, but this man is _still_ a man. There are lines of propriety that shouldn't be crossed for a young woman, even if you're the Avatar. I know that my mother made an exception to the rule for you because of your status... but if you end up in any sort of predicament, Korra, the law will stand. Whether or not your duty to an arranged marriage was waived in favor of your training... if something happens, honor and tradition dictates that you will be married."

Korra pulled away from Kya, offended at the insinuation. "What _exactly_ do you think I'm planning on doing, Kya? I'm not—not _whoring_ myself out as part of some messed up _strategy!_"

"Then you must mind the boundaries, Korra!" Kya replied, hands on her hips and gaze steely. The Chief's expression reminded Korra strongly of Lin. "Your state of dress this morning was completely inappropriate. I accept partial responsibility for that, but..." She sighed. "Korra, I have no daughter, but I think of you as my own. Without anyone else to look out for you, here... I just want to keep you safe. I worry about what might happen if you get too close to Noatak."

"I'm not going to—" Korra blushed furiously, embarrassed and awkward. Flustered, she started to fasten her shirt, fingers fumbling. "I did _have_ a boyfriend, Kya, and I'm not completely unfamiliar to—but I've never—I _respect_ my culture, my heritage! I'm not a fool."

"But you are _young_," the woman stressed. "Young enough to make mistakes, even though you are an adult. Were you any other woman, you would likely have bore children already. Your will is strong, Korra, but the closer you get to this man, the more you will question your own morals. It's just the _way_ of things. You were never meant to get to know him, only identify him. This situation is rapidly becoming more than we could expect."

"You—" Korra pulled at her hair in frustration, snatching up the fastening for her hair and trying it quickly. "What I do is _my_ business! I won't do anything stupid, Kya. Besides, it's not like any of this matters—you don't know anything about our _feelings_; there _aren't_ any."

"And _you_ underestimate my words. I am advising you strongly, as both Chief and as someone who cares about you, be very careful. You won't know that you're in trouble until you're in too deep. You already care about him."

"I—!" Korra turned away, unable to meet the Chief's knowing look. "It doesn't matter."

"On the contrary; it matters very much." Kya's hands found their way to Korra's shoulders, maternal and reassuring, even though Korra felt unnerved by the gesture. "You're a beautiful girl, Korra, a beautiful young woman. You may think of yourself as a warrior first and a woman second, but this is the time in your life when you will learn to balance the two equally. Once you do, many men will bow to you; many already do. And even though your marriage may not be arranged, there will be those that offer their hands. You may even come to find that you _want_ to choose one. You may not be of my blood, Korra, but you are of my kin, and the women of my family, of _our_ family, are not the domestic damsels that many of the Tribes are. We choose our mates based on their ability to challenge us, and it isn't always easy to deal with, but it happens."

"But... your marriage was arranged, wasn't it?"

Kya chuckled. "Yes, Sinaaq and I were arranged. Chief Arnook, before me, never had another heir after Lady Yue's ascension. He favored my Uncle Sokka and if he'd had his way, would have made Sokka the Chief. Uncle Sokka had a responsibility to the Southern Tribe, though. When I was old enough, Sokka suggested that I become Chief of the Northern Tribes; he said that the North could use a woman to stir up their ways, and Chief Arnook did quite like me. He agreed, but also said that it would be best for the tribe if I were to marry a Northern Tribe man; _easier for all to accept_, he said. Sinaaq was one of the Tribe's most accomplished warriors, and our marriage was arranged because I chose him."

Korra was silent for a while, contemplating. "What made you choose him?"

Kya laughed again. "The day I arrived, he made it very clear that he would support me as Chief _only_ if I could prove myself—the buffoon," she added fondly. "It wasn't a Duel of Honor, but we did spar in the plaza, hand-to-hand. I beat him quite thoroughly... and when I did, he asked me to teach him. Aunt Suki always found this particularly funny, and Sinaaq and Uncle Sokka got on famously."

Korra turned, heart clenching painfully—the fondness in Kya's voice combined with the phantom memories of people Korra had never met... it was particularly painful. The thought of Sokka brought on memories of awful jokes and half-baked plans, none of them hers, but all of them familiar.

And Korra couldn't deny that... _maybe_, just a _little_, she wanted that sort of companionship wrought with fond frustration and worthwhile challenge.

Kya gave Korra another knowing look.

"Is it obvious?" Korra asked with a sigh.

"No," the woman answered, reaching for Korra's other hairpieces and finishing the task. "And, truth be told, I don't entirely disapprove. I worry only because if he truly _is_ Amon, you may be unable to carry out your duty."

"Aang said it didn't matter even if he was," Korra said very quietly. "That it would be worse for me to do anything rather than nothing at all, and that there was no use in stirring a pot already off the fire."

The Chief harrumphed, but didn't outright disagree.

"I don't love him you know," the Avatar added suddenly. "It's not like that."

"No, it isn't," Kya agreed. "Not yet." Korra flushed. "But you cannot build a relationship on dishonesty."

"I know. I've already told him... the truth about me. I'll tell him whatever else he needs to know."

Kya nodded sagely, then seemed to consider something. "When the time is right, you may benefit from talking to Elder Yuqin. She is... _was_ the mother of Tarrlok and Noatak. She remembers little of herself now, but she remembers almost everything about her sons. They were her pride and joy. You may be able to learn something from her that could help in identifying our own Noatak."

"Speaking of identifying..." Korra started, turning back to her clothes and catching sight of Noatak's coat. She lifted it carefully, looking at the embroidered symbol. "This has the sigil of Healer Yugoda's clan. Why does Noatak—?"

"Elder Yuqin is Healer Yugoda's daughter," Chief Kya replied, sighing. "Her sons were the first males to be born to the line in nearly three generations—powerful waterbenders, naturally, and when you factor in their sire..." The Chief's expression was one of grudging respect. "I never met Noatak, but I met Tarrlok briefly before he left for Republic City, once very long ago. He was one of the most skilled young benders I have seen. He lacked in natural talent, but he was highly persistent. I respected that... But, anyway, when _our_ Noatak was found, it was Elder Yuqin that first believed he _was_ Noatak. She insisted that he have this."

Korra stared at the coat, gently running her thumb over the smooth, tightly-stitched sigil. "Does he know?"

"No," Kya replied. "Without a positive identification, I didn't wish to give him false hope. However, if no one can identify him anyway, our next best option is to do all we can to help him regain his memories. It's time to take steps in that direction."

Korra frowned, but nodded. It was a lot to process, but... if they were going to help him regain his memories... perhaps it might be a good idea to try to rule out what _weren't_ his memories?

"Do you have a way of sending post?" Korra asked.

Kya blinked. "I have a messenger hawk, if that will suffice, but it will take time, depending on where you are sending to. Any great distance should be sent by ship."

Korra nodded. "Good, I'll do that, then."

The Chief raised a brow. "What exactly do you have in mind?"

* * *

In the final few minutes before Korra went to rejoin Noatak, her heart regularly was skipping beats in a way she knew couldn't be healthy. Whatever had happened between them this morning had changed things, and now she couldn't push the thoughts of _maybe_ away.

What would it be like, she wondered, to _truly_ become friends with the man? What would it be like to spend time with him simply for the sake of spending time; companionship for companionship's sake? Would the strange tension between them dissipate now that their shared animosity had faded, or would it grow stronger as they grew more used to the other's presence?

Korra had so many questions, the answers to which only time could reveal. As the Avatar, she should know the patience to wait, but Korra was not a patient woman, or one to idly waste time while waiting for fate.

What was it that she wanted from Noatak?

Friendship, yes—now that she had gotten used to the idea, she felt like a fool for not extending her hand to him before. It was her own prejudice on that matter that caused the rift between them from the very beginning. She had wanted so badly to see him as Amon so she would have someone on which to pin her blame, her hurt; the feelings that she couldn't deal with when faced with the idea that Amon was dead.

It was selfish, but Korra had wanted Amon to face justice—no, she wanted him to _suffer._ She wanted him to live every day of his life knowing that he had been defeated and that he was getting his just desserts for the things he had done to Republic City, Korra, and her friends. To think that he had just _died_ without having to come to terms with his own actions, to not have to live with the stress and worry and fear the way Korra had—it didn't sit right with her. The idea that the creature of her nightmares was really just a man in the end, a _mortal_ man who was killed by his own victim, his own _brother_... no, it hadn't sit right with Korra at all. She was so ready to believe that Amon was still alive that she never even questioned the possibility that Noatak might _not_ be Noatak.

But now, Korra had to wonder—so what? What if he was? If this was the body of the man who had hurt her, but held none of his memories or motivations, was he even the same man? Was he not paying for his sins by being so painfully, gruesomely scarred in both mind and body, scars that would likely not fade for as long as he lived?

Was Korra really so cruel to hold her grudge and make him suffer, whether or not he was really the perceived monster under her bed?

Aang was right. Korra couldn't afford to hold onto such cruel intentions when she was supposed to be the one to save this man. She couldn't save anyone when she thought like that; not even herself.

She had no way of knowing if this man _was_ Amon, was _once_ Amon, or was never Amon at all.

Did it matter?

But if he was once Amon, he had the potential to someday remember, and it was her responsibility to help him do so.

Did she care?

_Not yet_, Kya had said, when Korra had insisted that she didn't love Noatak. _Not yet_, she said, like it was inevitable. That one day, Korra _would_ love him, and that it was only a matter of time.

But there were so many things _wrong_ with that—he was so much _older_ than she was (but Korra was the Avatar, the very definition of an _old soul_) and he was obviously damaged (but so was she, with literally thousands of years worth of emotional baggage) and he had such a different way of looking at the world (but maybe that would help her to feel empathy toward those who felt differently than she did) and—

But, in a weird way, Noatak made her kind of... happy. And in a world, in a _life_ where Korra was destined to see and feel so much sadness and pain in the name of helping others, was it so wrong for her to try to hold on to someone that made her smile?

Did that make her selfish? Or did it simply make her human?

Paused in the hallway just outside his door, Korra closed her eyes, trying to put these thoughts behind her, at least for a while. She knew that, if she went in now with this much of a troubled mind, Noatak would somehow know and try to coax the reason out of her. No matter what, Korra wasn't ready for that yet.

Okay, so there was some tension between them. It was nothing she couldn't deal with and work through. She would be _fine._

Korra rounded the doorway and stepped inside, stance confident and head held high—unaffected. And it worked so well, too; at least until Noatak saw her enter and smiled like she was the best thing he'd seen all morning.

Fine.

Right.


	9. Chapter 9

**I want to say thank you again to everyone who has reviewed or left me nice notes over on Tumblr and deviantArt. Seriously, like, I'm running out of nice words because my feels are getting in the way.**** ;U;  
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**WARNING: Speaking of feels, though, this chapter is probably going to break them. This chapter does contain mild (in my opinion) violence and a fuck ton of angst. It surprised me, too, but this chapter wrote itself, so I'm not complaining. This is more true to the tone of the overall fic anyway. Tri nt 2 crey 2 mch gaiz k?  
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**SoA still applies!**

**Wow okay this is the worst author's note ever. I blame lack of sleep from working three shifts in a rowsfjhgkdfjghjd  
**

* * *

"Do you think you can handle my questions today, or do you think you'll have to inexplicably run off and get hypothermia again?" Noatak teased as Korra sat across from him, absently stirring the bland stew in his bowl.

Korra made a face in response, tucking into the ice table, settled as comfortably as she could on the bench. "I think I can handle it, but go easy on me," she replied with a sardonic roll of her eyes.

Noatak, thankfully, doesn't launch into a whole inquisition instantly. As he stirs his stew some more, he seems to ponder exactly where to start. He's quiet, but not uncomfortably so, and even though he doesn't look at Korra, she doesn't feel ignored. For once in her life, she patiently waits, watching him think and sort of wishing she could be part of the process. But then again, she supposes as she takes small sips of her drink (kind of like the tea in Republic City, but boiled with kelp instead of leaves, and more salty and tangy, less bitter or sweet), if she knew what he was thinking, she wouldn't be as pleasantly surprised when he finally spoke.

"So, Katara," he started, looking up and meeting Korra's eyes. "She was your waterbending sifu—but when you talked about her, it sounded like you were close." The question wasn't obviously stated, but openly curious. Korra was more surprised that his first question had been about _her_, rather than about what she knew of him.

"Well, her husband _was_ the Avatar before me," Korra replied, shrugging a little. "Mostly, though, Katara liked my mom. She was way more domestic and stuff, but she's a talented healer—which is probably a good thing, considering how much trouble I got into—and was one of Katara's students. Then, when I was old enough, Master Katara started teaching me. I think she knew I was the Avatar before anyone else did."

"And Chief Kya?"

"Whenever she visited her mother, she would visit me. She's known me since I was a kid. She'd bring all sorts of cool things from here in the Northern Tribes; drove my mother nuts. She was still hoping I'd become some meek, cultured lady or something, but she was never bitter about it." Korra smiled faintly, sadly.

Noatak didn't say anything, but when Korra looked up and met his eyes, she could see the inquiry there. Korra appreciated it—he knew that she would answer any question he asked, but by not asking, he left the choice to her.

"I didn't see my parents much," Korra continued by way of explanation, looking down into her cup and its contents. "The White Lotus took me into the compound as soon as I was old enough to be without my parents; you know, walking, talking, toilet trained. They left the kiddy stuff to my folks, then whisked me away into a thirty-foot-high walled complex of ice so I could train."

"It sounds like you had little time to be a child," Noatak observed calmly, without inflection or blame.

Korra shrugged; she'd never really noticed, not until Aang had pointed it out, and now Noatak. She never felt like she was lacking in any way—it was just the way her life had been. "I managed. I didn't really have friends or anything, since everyone tried to keep me focused on training, but... Naga helped."

The man made a strange sound that might have been choked laughter. "Yes, Naga. What exactly...?"

"She's a polar bear dog," Korra answered, grinning widely. "They're native to the Southern Icecaps. They say I'm the first to tame one. Naga was wandering around the outskirts of the compound; must have gotten separated from her pack. I overheard some guards talking about her, so I went to go check her out. She was lost and lonely and was in pretty rough shape—it took me about a week of bringing out whatever scraps I could find to let me touch her, then another week or two to let me ride her. Without a saddle, mind you; ugh, that was rough." Korra laughed at the memory, how she'd clung desperately to her new pet's fur as she was jostled, hurting both of them. Once Korra had finally gotten Naga to let her put a saddle on, one meant for the whale-horses and _not_ a polar bear dog, the experience had gotten marginally better. "Once I convinced the sentries to let me keep her, they commissioned a properly-fitted saddle. It didn't last long, 'cause she grew like a leopard whale, and she's still growing. She won't get too much bigger, though, since she's nearly four."

"So you found her when you were..."

"Thirteen," she answered. "I turned seventeen a few weeks ago." Suddenly, she felt strange for pointing it out; immature, for being showy that she was an adult. It felt childish. "Anyway, Naga's my best friend." Ugh, even more immature. Korra resisted the urge to cover her face with her hands, instead taking another sip from her drink.

"She does make good company," Noatak replied with a small smile, one that implied he didn't think Korra's statement was childish at all. Then, he looked considering, and asked his next question. "Where did you come from? Before you came here, I mean."

"Republic City," Korra answered, watching his expression carefully, but seeing no trace of recognition beyond the usual.

"What were you doing there?" He asked, watching her with honest inquiry as he started to eat. "It's a little far from the South Pole, wouldn't you say?"

"What _wasn't_ I doing there?" She replied with a wide grin, attempting to smother her own hesitance. "Well, Tenzin, Master Katara's son, lives there with his family. He's the only airbending master around, and there were some social issue things going on in the city," Korra waved her hand vaguely, as if she hadn't been a part of every one of those _social issue things_. "So I moved there with him and the kids to train airbending. Then, I got tangled up in pro-bending; not entirely on purpose, but, hey, I wasn't going to complain."

Noatak snorted softly in disbelief. "They let the _Avatar_ play on a pro-bending team? That hardly seems fair."

"I only bent water," Korra protested.

"Still, hardly fair," he insisted. "I haven't seen you waterbend often, but your healing is impressive. In combat, I bet you'd be quite fearsome."

"Flatterer," Korra snickered, only realizing what she'd said after it was too late to take back. She blushed, but pointedly attempted not to look at him. "We lost the championship, anyway," Korra continued, scowling at the memory, expression smoothing over as she remembered what came just after. "It was pretty obvious that they paid off the refs."

Noatak's eyes narrowed, head tilted in confusion. "The opposition cheated? Was it very obvious?"

"Extremely," Korra nearly spat. "Disgusting, no-good cheaters. I wouldn't have minded losing if it had been fair—but it doesn't matter. We won't be playing them again, either way; their team broke up, and so did ours." She sighed softly. "I guess it's for the best. With the United Republic still in such a squabble, it's probably a good thing that I'm free to wander and keep an eye on things."

"Still in a squabble?" Noatak repeated, pausing and lowering his utensils. "Why?"

Korra cursed herself internally; Noatak was too sharp to let her little slip go, and since he had asked... "There was an incident," she started slowly, mimicking him as she lowered her spoon, arms pulling away from the table and crossing over her chest. "A few months ago, in Republic City. Or several incidents, really."

Noatak picked up on her hesitance, but did not seem willing to back down. Fortunately, he did not push, allowing Korra to gather her thoughts before she continued; even so, he watched her with sharp eyes, searching for any sign of a lie.

"There was a non-bender movement that got extremely aggressive—they called themselves the Equalists." As he watched her, Korra did the same, doing her best to hide the obvious suspicion as she continued to tell him the tale. However, if he had recognized the name _Equalists_, he did not react. "They demanded equal status to the bending population of Republic City—something that I naively thought already existed. And, truly, in its purest form, their goal was noble; I would have stood behind it, behind _them_, but their leader..."

Korra lowered her head, jaw clenching. Her hands gripped tightly at the edge of the table, knuckles going white from the pressure. Even so, she could not combat the horror of her own memories, of being the weak one, for once, the _prey. _Silence loomed heavily over them, and Korra wasn't sure how to continue, or if she even could.

A hand settled over hers, warm and present and comforting. She looked up and met Noatak's eyes—worried, she realized, about _her._ Clueless to the horrors she had suffered at the hands of the unnamed man.

"He was radical, limitless, _dangerous_," Korra continued quietly. "He started with the crime gangs, but it only escalated from there. Before we could stop him, he'd singlehandedly brought our justice system to its corrupted knees, and we all had to watch as our lives crumbled around us. The things he did, to _all_ of us—" She hadn't realized until her voice cracked that her eyes held the sharp sting of tears. Furiously, she blinked them back. "He played us like Pai Sho tiles, and we were all his puppets until he cut our strings, powerless to stop him. He stood and smiled as he watched the city burn."

Noatak shuddered, his eyes fixated on Korra's face, either unwilling or unable to look away. "How did you stop him?"

Korra laughed bitterly, but it sounded like a sob. "I got lucky," she admitted in a whisper, angry and humiliated that she was reduced to such a mess, even if she didn't cry. It didn't matter if she did or not; the fact of the matter was that Noatak knew she wanted to. "Amazingly, stupidly lucky. I'd tried to face him alone before..." She choked on her words. "I... I couldn't— he almost—"

Noatak's hand tightened around hers before he let go, and before Korra knew it, he was tugging her to her feet and leading her from the room by the hand, drawing the curious stares of healers and patients alike. No one dared to stop them, though, and Korra allowed him to wordlessly lead her through the healing center, and, to her surprise, _out_.

"Where are we going?" She asked, sniffling pathetically, quickening her steps so she could more easily keep in stride.

"Elsewhere," Noatak answered stiffly, giving Korra the distinct impression what he was attempting to hold back whatever emotions he was feeling. She wasn't sure how successful he was, however; she could feel his hand shaking in hers. It was a pity that she was too distraught to enjoy the moment.

It took her nearly until they reached the building to realize where they were going, but did not complain as they entered—unlike the healing centers, this place was warm and full of soft, yellow light from flickering oil lamps. Korra found herself strangely comforted by the sound of hay rustling under her boots as she walked, the distinct but familiar smells of fur and feed reminding her keenly of home. When Noatak opened a wooden gate that looked nearly ready to crumble at his touch, Korra's pain was replaced swiftly by surprised joy when Naga bounded forward to greet her master.

Korra laughed, feeling strange and boneless as she curled over Naga's head, embracing the animal's wide, warm neck as she sank to her knees. Her eyes closed, pain momentarily forgotten as she folded over her patient, gentle companion, holding Naga's head in her lap, careless of the chill she felt from Naga's wet nose against her stomach.

This was exactly what she needed—and, somehow, Noatak had known before Korra herself had.

She felt him crouch next to her, not quite touching, but close. His body radiated comforting heat as he simply waited, then tentatively placed his hand on her back, palm flat and wide between Korra's shoulder blades. With her face buried into Naga's great mass of fur, Korra felt far less insecure as she let a few traitorous tears slip from her eyes.

No one had ever asked her that hadn't already known what it was like. No one had ever asked _her_, asked _Korra_, instead of just asking the Avatar. No one had ever really cared how she felt, because, as far as they were concerned, she was the Avatar and should just suck it up and deal with it.

She'd never been able to just talk before, and so she talked.

"I've never been so scared," Korra whispered into Naga's fur, half-hoping he wouldn't hear the evidence of her weakness. "All my life, I was told that I was practically invincible, and that the only risk present was to myself and my own _self-destructive tendencies_. Call me arrogant—you wouldn't be wrong. It had never occurred to me, even in the slightest, that there might be someone out there with enough power to present a challenge. Then, there I was; a sheltered, spoiled brat, stuck in the middle of a crisis that I couldn't even begin to understand. I was so stupid, so _young_."

She collapsed back into a cross-legged sit, Naga lowering her huge head into Korra's lap, whining softly. Noatak shifted, leaning back against the polar bear dog's front leg. Korra could feel his eyes on her, but didn't look up to meet them, and her back felt strangely cold now that his hand was no longer there.

"It didn't even matter how young I was, though, you know?" Korra asked bitterly. "Everyone was trying to use me to further their agendas. City Council, Equalists, it didn't matter. The fact of the matter was that I was sick of it, so sick of being pushed and pulled around, feeling trapped between what I perceived was my duty and what I actually wanted. I challenged _him_ before I was ready. That didn't really matter, either. He ambushed me, and I was completely at his mercy... and he made it _very_ clear that he was in control; not only the one with the power, but the _only_ one with _any_ power. In his eyes, I was less than nothing. He had a point to prove and—" Korra swallowed convulsively, feeling the panic all over again. "—and if I wasn't so despicable, so _pathetic_ to him, he probably would have proved it much— m-much worse."

She gasped raggedly, the first time she had ever been able to admit her most potent fear, the one that still haunted her. Headstrong as she might have been, Korra was not a fool, even then. Tied up and completely at his whim, bending blocked and beyond reach of help, he could have done _anything_.

She'd wondered for months afterward if Amon had known how simple it would have been to _destroy_ her, as he promised, right then and there.

"Korra," she heard Noatak whisper, voice tainted with horror at her implication. "Surely he didn't—"

"He didn't," Korra affirmed weakly. "But he could have; it would have been too easy. Maybe that was _why_ he didn't; I don't know, and I never want to know. I can't even _imagine_—" But she could. She _could_ imagine, and all of the endless possibilities were _awful_, and it terrified her.

Noatak had to have known she was lying, even without looking at her face, but he blessedly didn't push her on the matter—_that_ matter, at least. "But _why_, Korra? What reason did he have?"

"In the end, there was no reason at all," Korra replied, defeated. "Every word he ever said to _anyone_ was a lie; his own name, his own _face_." She looked up with red-rimmed eyes, seeing Noatak's surprised expression. He opened his mouth to ask, but Korra mutely shook her head in a silent plea to let the issue drop, at least for now. Reluctantly, he did.

"Don't be offended, Korra, but... how was he even a threat? I mean—" Noatak frowned. "You're the Avatar. I would think that someone would have more sense than to challenge you."

Korra lowered her head in shame. "I wasn't a fully-realized Avatar yet, and I didn't have any experience in anything other than single combat. Taking on more than one enemy was tough enough, but when you factor in that they were chi-blockers—"

"They were _what?_" He asked, perplexed.

"Chi-blockers. They..." She swallowed, steeling herself. "They temporarily disable a person's bending by hitting pressure points."

Noatak leaned forward, looking a strange combination of alarmed and intrigued. "Is that even possible?"

"More than possible," Korra replied with a nod. "And all of the chi-blockers were nonbenders... except for one."

His face twisted, first in confusion, and then in utter disgust. "The Leader—he was a bender, wasn't he? That's what you meant when you talked about—" Noatak cut himself off, suddenly looking furious. "A wolf-bat among the sheep-pigs. None of his followers knew that he was a bender, did they? They were all blindly following this man, believing every one of his lies, probably worshiping him as a hero. And he betrayed each and every one of them, abusing their trust."

"Abusing their faith," Korra added solemnly. "He had them all convinced that he was blessed by the spirits, like a prophet meant to guide and protect them."

Noatak scoffed. "And what made him so special?"

Korra's nails dug into her palms. "He could take away people's bending. Permanently."

For a while, he simply stared at her, his expression chillingly blank. Then, his lips thinned into a tight line, face growing darker and darker as long, uncomfortably silent minutes passed. As his eyes narrowed, Korra's widened, a terrible chill going through her at his hateful look. Korra's hands twitched instinctively, flexing blood into her fingers, and despite the knowledge that Noatak was her friend, Korra's body was prepared for a fight.

Finally, when she was about to say something, once even Naga's ears perked up at the palpable tension, he spoke, biting out halting words. "What kind of a bender has that ability?"

Korra fought the urge to back away with all that she had, and instead forced herself to answer, albeit in a whisper bordering on the silent. "A bloodbender."

"All bloodbenders?"

Korra was honestly starting to get a little bit scared, wondering in a split-second whether or not she would be facing the very enemy she had only just confided about. With huge, terrified eyes, and her heart pounding like the wheels of a train against a track, Korra moved slowly, her hands leaving Naga's fur to rest against the hay-covered ground. Inch by painful inch, she scooted closer to Noatak, despite every nerve in her body telling her to move the other way. She moved closer until their knees brushed, reaching out to his balled fists and attempting to unwind his fingers, much as he had done for her earlier. "I don't know."

He laughed once, bitterly. "If you had to _guess_, Korra. Would any bloodbender be able to do that? Would your Master Katara be capable of something so extreme?"

"I don't—" Korra faltered under his piercing look. "No, probably not."

In a move more swift than she could follow, Noatak seized both of her wrists, squeezing harshly. Korra hissed at the pain, but was much more worried about the snarl that twisted his features into something nearly unrecognizable. "It's funny, though, isn't it—" Noatak snapped. "—that when a man washes up with a case of amnesia, and they call the _Avatar?_ They didn't call you to _heal_ me, Korra; they could have managed that on their own. So why would they tear the Avatar away from a socioeconomic crisis where she was so sorely needed, hm? Can you think of a serious enough threat that would make a hardened Chief panic? Because I can."

Korra flinched back, but with his hold on her, she had nowhere to go. A quick glance at Naga showed the polar bear dog's ears fully back, eyes alert—but not growling, not attacking. Korra had to trust Naga's instinct, because she knew her friend would never allow Korra to be hurt. Looking back to Noatak, Korra clenched her jaw. "You're hurting me."

"I asked you a question, _Avatar_," Noatak sneered.

Stupid. She was so stupid. Korra wasn't entirely sure what heartbreak felt like, but if it felt anything like the utter betrayal and disappointment that felt like it was crushing her chest, making her gasp for breath, then it was the worst sensation she'd ever encountered. "I don't know, _I don't know_," Korra insisted, overwhelmed and scared, but fighting it back—if it came to a fight, she had to be strong. She had to be strong, she had to be—

"Do you _really_ not know?" Noatak snapped. "_Look at me, Korra._ The Leader, Korra, what was his name?"

Korra bit hard on the inside of her cheek, her mouth filled with the iron-tinged taste of blood. She had to be strong, she had to be strong, _she had to be strong_—

"_Tell me!"_ He commanded.

"His name was Amon!" Korra screamed at him, furious and petrified. "It was _Amon_, okay?"

Noatak dropped her wrists, on his feet in a second, backing away from her until his back was against the gate. His chest heaved with adrenaline, hands twitching at his sides, which he balled up again almost immediately. Korra, for her part, couldn't quite figure out how to use her legs—not that it mattered, because she was sure that if she stood, she would fall again when her knees buckled. Instead, she scrambled backward, probably looking more pathetic and undignified than she ever had, not daring to take her eyes off of him for a second. She'd seen how fast he moved. She couldn't let her guard down.

Noatak was the first to look away, doubling over and starting to _laugh_, the sound wounded and helpless—a man completely out of options. If Korra hadn't already sworn that she wouldn't cry, she would have started right then.

"It was me, wasn't it?" Noatak asked, arms wrapped protectively over his stomach, fingers winding in the fabric at the waist of his coat. "That's why they called you here, right? _I'm Amon_."

"I don't know," Korra replied, voice thick and trembling, and this time it was the truth.

"You don't know?" He repeated, incredulous and mocking. "What, after all this time, you still can't be sure whether or not I'm the monster from your nightmares?"

Korra shuddered. "Amon—he wore a mask. I only ever saw him without it once, and it was from far away."

"Oh, of _course_." His lip curled. "So, why wait? Why don't you just kill me and get it over with?"

"I won't kill a man who hasn't been proven guilty," she replied vehemently. "And if I were going to kill someone, I wouldn't want it to be you. Do you think this is what I want?" Korra trailed off into painful silence. "You— I woke up this morning, and you were there. That's not _nothing_ to me, okay? You're my friend. You _matter_ to me."

"I'm not just another stray you can pick up, Korra," he said, voice cracking on her name, shoulders starting to shake.

"Noatak—"

What happened next, Korra couldn't explain. Noatak's body seized, curling in on itself and knocking him off-balance. He fell hard to the floor. Korra was about to check on him when something suddenly felt like it snapped inside of her and she screamed, shrill and piercing. The pain was like nothing she had ever felt, like being torn apart from the inside out by razor-sharp claws, hell-bent on tearing her to pieces before letting her bleed herself dry.

The feeling got worse and worse and worse until Korra thought she couldn't take anymore, was willing to die if it meant the pain would end, and all at once, it stopped.

Her eyes were watery, her vision blurry, and somewhere in the background, Korra was pretty sure that Naga was howling, but none of that mattered as she crawled to Noatak's side, trembling fingers feeling for a pulse that beat swift and uneven. Noatak's eyes were squeezed shut, brows knitted together in pain, and Korra barely had time to pry his hands away from clawing at his own arms before her body was wracked by another spasm of pain.

Her whimpers made his eyes snap open, and in the second that their gazes met, the pain seemed to dwindle and die. Eyes wide and _clear_, for the first time since this mess had started, Noatak reached for Korra's hand and squeezed it weakly, Korra instinctively—_stupidly—_curling protectively over his body.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, haunted eyes looking up into hers. "I don't know what—" His body was wracked by shudders, a pained sound escaping from between clenched teeth, nearly crushing Korra's fingers that were twisted with his.

When Korra's body buckled under a new wave of pain, she knew. "Bloodbending," she gasped. "Amon used a psychic b-bloodbending technique. Waterbending is n-notoriously hard to control; the stress must be—" Korra's words transformed into a shriek as she felt something close around her heart and _squeeze._

"Noatak, _please_," Korra begged, tears finally working themselves free, slipping from her cheeks onto his. Her strength failed her, the last bare inches between then disappearing as Korra's head became heavy, their foreheads pressed together. "You're going to _kill_ us both!"

Like the words were a trigger, everything suddenly stopped and became very still. Korra's heart beat furiously in her chest, her labored breathing fighting with his for the title of loudest sound in the room. Even Naga had gone strangely silent, but Korra felt her damp nose against her back, so she had to be fine.

The horror of the entire situation was somewhat surreal, and most definitely more than Korra could handle. By all means, she should have run away, _crawled_ if she had to, but Korra was never particularly wise, nor did she adhere to the typical standards of self-preserving behavior. Instead, she stayed put exactly where she was, one hand carefully protecting Noatak's head from the ground, the other clutching desperately at his hand, which held on to hers just as tight.

Like she hadn't in months, Korra just stayed and cried, finding her greatest comfort and torment in the presence of the man who was most assuredly her enemy.


End file.
